Parallel Lives
by Archonix
Summary: Tasked with transporting several thousand paraboxes created by Professor Farnsworth, Fry and Leela manage to become trapped in a succession of increasingly bizarre universes.
1. Sunlight and Shadow

**Parallel Lives, Episode One: A Road Not Taken**

**_Full Summary: _** _Episode One of... several. Tasked with transporting several thousand paraboxes accidentally created by Professor Farnsworth, Fry and Leela manage to become trapped in a parallel universe where Fry never went to work at Planet Express. Stalked by an insane duplicate of Leela from yet another universe and harassed by an uncaring bureaucracy, the pair must find a way to unite their alternate selves and regain entry to the Planet Express building and the parabox that is their only way home._

* * *

Dawn. The new sun was a sight rarely seen by some, especially those who spent their time working on odd shifts that had them sleeping or working when the sun crested the horizon. Others might see it once a week, when they got up to drag the Sunday paper in from the porch, or scrape the weekend crust of owl-droppings from their hovercar if they lived in that sort of neighbourhood. Some would see it perhaps a dozen times in their lives.

Of course others might see it several times a day. Anyone living or working in earth orbit, for instance. The inhabitants of the great Orbitals that circled the globe saw dawn six times a day, alternatively from the north and south as their orbits crossed the equator. People working in lower orbits saw anything up to twenty dawns each day. Others never saw a dawn in their entire life as they wandered about the eternal darkness of deep mines or dank underground factories, or meandered along the massive, ancient network of sewers that kept New New York from drowning in its own filth.

All of these thoughts flitted through Leela's mind as she watched for the first arc of the sun to peek over the distant horizon. She had rarely taken the time to just take in the sky, the vast bowl of light over her head, or to watch the sun she took for granted start _its_ day until her last visit to her parents had reminded Leela just how lucky she was to even have the chance. It was as if a rather ironic light-bulb had switched on in her head; she'd looked around the dimly lit hovel her parents called a home – cosy as it was – and asked how many times they'd seen a sunrise.

Their answer, whilst not actually surprising, had been something of a shock and made Leela all the more determined to enjoy the life they had given her, painful as it might seem sometimes. And so, on the strength of a their gift to her, Leela had awoken before the dawn one fine spring morning, hauled herself from her bed and made the commute to the Planet Express offices a few hours early. Now she stood on the tower and simply watched the sun as it finally hove above the grey shimmer of the ocean and started its long trek across the sky.

It was strangely uninteresting. And yet...

Leela was still there an hour later, long after the stars had faded from view and the sun was on its way toward noon. That's how Fry found her. Not crying, as such, but she had to blink back a tear when he called her name. She turned and saw him standing a short distance away with that odd half-smile he always seemed to have when he wasn't thinking.

"Hello Fry."

"Hey."

He walked over and joined her at the rail, leaning back on it so low that he almost seemed to be sat on the floor. he let his head droop backward and stared at the sky. "The Professor's been looking for you."

"Did he say why?"

"Oh, the usual stuff. Missions, deliveries, stealing organs..."

Leela closed her eye and laughed, taking the moment to enjoy the feeling of the sun on her face. Fry was still content to stare at the sky when she looked at him again so, sighing, she looked back out over the river. If her parents were a reminder of higher things, Fry was the anchor that kept her feet firmly in the muck of reality.

The silence was companionable, whatever cares and worries they might normally have shared lost for a moment in the still morning air.

"I suppose we'd better get going," she finally said, breaking the peace. "We can't keep our _employer_ waiting, can we?"

"I guess," Fry said. He leaned even further back, if that were physically possible, and smiled at something in the air. Leela grabbed Fry's collar and pulled him upright before he could melt over the rail. He shook his head. "Sorry."

"No problem." Leela held out her hand toward the doors. "Lay on, MacDuff."

Fry tore his gaze away from the sky, a confused frown touching his brow. "I thought you had a thing about people sleeping on the job," he said carefully as he straightened out his coat. "Or does laying mean something else? And anyway, who's this MacDuff guy?"

"Fry, it... it's a figure of speech, I read it in a book from your time. I thought..." her voice trailed off in the face of Fry's almost impenetrable incomprehension. She sighed and smiled at him. "Never mind. Let's go."

"Sure," Fry said, shrugging as he fell into step behind Leela. After a moment she realised he wasn't following again and turned to see what was up. Fry was staring at the sky once more, mouth slack and eyes almost vacant. She finally gave up and turned to follow his gaze.

"What are we looking at?"

"Clouds. That one looks like your mom."

Fry pointed up at a cloud that, Leela noted, did bear a passing resemblance to Munda... assuming Munda was a hunchback with three legs, of course. "So it does... come on, Fry, we'll be late."

"Uh-huh."

She waited in silence until her patience grew too thin. Leela grabbed Fry's collar and dragged him inside.

Professor Farnsworth was already at the conference table when Leela and Fry arrived, trying to prize his fingers from a colourful Chinese finger trap. They sat down as quietly as they could so as not to disturb him.

"Confounded thing," he muttered, ignoring the other employees as they arrived and took their seats. Finally he gave in and looked up. "So, you've_finally_ decided to join us, Leela?"

"Hey, she was watching clouds with me," Fry said loudly, putting his feet up on the table with a broad 'I'm rescuing you' smile.

"Thanks a lot, Fry," Leela grumbled, barely able to conceal the sarcasm in her voice. Fry beamed and gave her a thumbs up.

"No problem!"

Farnsworth gave the finger-trap an absent-minded tug and frowned at it in evident confusion. "I don't care what sort of stupidity you were up to, and frankly I never will as I'll have forgotten about it in a few hours, h'yes." He reached up to adjust his glasses, only to realise that his other hand was dragged up too. "Blast and damnation, how did I ever get stuck in this thing?"

"Professor..."

"What? Oh yes, I have some good news, everyone!" Farnsworth reached under the table and, for a moment, struggled with something beneath. Leela pulled a face at the thought of what he might be doing under there until Farnsworth managed to lift a large, plain cardboard box from the floor. He smiled blankly at the assembled staff as he laid the box on the table.

Fry peered at the box. "Isn't that the thing with our universe in it?"

"Oh my no, this is another box with a whole new universe inside. I created it last night," Farnsworth said with a cheery lilt. He leaned his head over sideways as he examined the box. "Along with approximately eleven thousand others. I accidentally left the machine on overnight instead of destroying it."

"And this is good news how, exactly?" Leela folded her arms. This ought to be good.

"Well, uh... it means you have a mission," Farnsworth said, putting his hands together. The finger-trap slipped off his finger but he didn't seem to notice. "Yes, a _mission_, one so terrifying and dangerous that you may well be too terrified to carry it out."

"Sounds fun, hope you all enjoy it," Bender exclaimed, turning to run for the exit. Before he got anywhere near the door Hermes pulled out a squat, cylindrical device that emitted a loud buzzing noise when he pointed it at Bender. The robot froze in his track and slumped forward, groaning.

Hermes blew on the end of the cylinder and slipped it back into his pocket. "Nobody runs out on their employment obligations," he said happily, leafing through a sheaf of papers. Bender turned his head to glare at Hermes; evidently he could do little else but watch as Hermes smiled and held open a thick book.

"Asimov Code rule four one seven, subsection eleven, paragraph six as amended," he said, holding his pen up to indicate the relevant paragraphs. "All robotic employees that demonstrate unwillingness to follow rules one through fifteen, seventeen and ninety-two will be fitted with suitable restraint devices in order to facilitate compliance with the Code. The alternative was waitin until you were out of the door and then callin in the breakers."

The book slapped shut.

"Oh. Well, I'll just wait here then... like I have a choice!"

Farnsworth clasped his hands together, incidentally re-trapping his fingers in the finger-trap. He looked down and frowned as if he'd just noticed the device. "Well now, with that unpleasantness out of the way, this won't be any more dangerous than your last missions," he said as he tugged at the trap again, testing its strength.

"Our last three missions nearly got us all killed, Professor," Leela said, trying not to let the anger show in her voice. Farnsworth just stared at her and then looked over at Hermes, who shook his head slightly, tapping his briefcase with one hand.

"All right," Leela sighed. "What is it?"

"After accidentally creating so many new universes I feel a certain need to preserve the one we have here. Each of the boxes I created holds a replica of our universe within, and those ones potentially hold replicas again, and if any one of them were to be destroyed it could set of a cascade of wanton destruction and mayhem that might potentially destroy the entire multiverse."

"Sort of like that episode of Star-" Fry choked as Leela elbowed him in the stomach. He gasped and screwed up his face. "What was that for?"

"Any mention of you-know-what is still technically illegal," Leela said, rubbing her elbow. How could a man who was so overweight be so bony at the same time? "I probably just saved your life."

"I was going to say gate! Gate!"

"Oh that asinine mockery of science, as if you could actually _walk_ through the event horizon of a wormhole..." Farnsworth cleared his throat, ignoring Fry's obvious dismay. "May I continue?" He waited for a moment and then smiled at the assenting silence.

"Good. Now, in order to preserve these boxes I have decided to store them in the very centre of the universe, which-"

"Point of order?" With complaints and scrabbling, Cubert Farnsworth, cloned son of the Professor and general know-it-all crawled out from underneath the table, covered in grime and dust and dragging some sort of cabling behind him. He heaved at the cable and then dropped it on the floor. "Strictly speaking there is no centre to the universe."

"What? What are you talking about? And what the devil are you doing under there?" Cubert shrugged and nudged the cable with his toe, as if this somehow explained everything. Farnsworth sighed. "Never mind. I know there's no centre of the universe but it sounds better than saying I want them put in some random spot near the edge. Anyway, there- what do you want now?"

Cubert stopped tugging at Farnsworth's sleeve and folded his arms again. He gave the Professor his 'I'm smarter than you' look and shook his head sadly. "How can there be an edge of the universe when there's no centre?"

"Shut up and get back to stripping that irradiated cable insulation, you annoying little brat." The Professor waited until Cubert had crawled back under the table, then folded his hands together. The finger-trap finally sprung off and flicked away over his shoulder. "Now as I was saying, you will be taking the boxes to a world at the edge... uh, centre... well it's a long way away from here. The world you'll be visiting is the most inert planet in the entire known universe."

The Professor beamed at his staff, as if waiting for them to react in shock or, perhaps, surprise. He looked from face to face, his frown deepening as he moved to each staff-member and noted their apathy. Only Fry seemed to be remotely interested in what was going on, unusually for him. Farnsworth turned to Leela, who feigned interest and even managed to put on a smile.

Fry held up his hand. "What's it called?"

"Nobody knows. There were a few attempts to name it, and eventually they managed to argue down to two candidates; Inertialis, and Procrastinon. The subsequent war was long and bloody but there was no clear winner, so these days everyone just pretends it doesn't exist." Farnsworth took off his glasses and cleaned them, scrubbing at the nano-particles he knew had to be there somewhere. "It's a world so completely inert that anything placed on it will probably last until the end of the universe, which is why I want to store these boxes there. Hermes has already taken care of the permits. All you need to do is load them on to the ship and transport them.

"You'll get there," he continued before Leela could speak, "by following the map I shall provide for you. The world doesn't appear on any official star charts or catalogues because of its, eyuh, 'controversial' nature."

The room fell silent. Mostly through apathy, it had to be said, rather than any particular worry or concern, though Fry and Leela seemed to be at least marginally interested now. Amy was polishing her nails. The Professor stood up and left the conference table without a word, pausing only to pick up the finger trap he'd discarded moments ago. By the time he reached the door the trap was firmly wrapped around his fingers again.

Leela looked across the table at Hermes. He almost cowered under the power of her gaze. "No chance of attacks or anything stupid happening?"

"Nope."

"No alien head hunters, brain parasites, liver maggots, nasal hair harvesters or Grues?"

"You're quite safe from all of those tings," Hermes said, pulling out another sheet of paper. He skimmed through it and then signed the bottom. "Though I would like to have your signature on this waiver of liability for any comments that might mislead you into falsely believing such statements as that."

Leela glared at the waiver, almost willing it to burst into flame. She pushed it aside, giving Hermes a neutral look. "No chance."

"Worth a shot..." Hermes folded up his papers and whistled a jaunty tune to himself as he left.

"Well, you heard the man. Time to load up."

"Do we have to?" Fry kicked his chair back and put his feet up on the table. "It's such a nice day today, I'd really prefer to hang out on the beach or something. Maybe we could go to the park and watch, uh, birds. Or... y'know."

"No, I don't know," Leela said. "As nice as the day is I'd rather get paid. Come on. You too, Bender."

Bender turned his head toward Leela's voice, arms wobbling as he tried to move.

"Looks like I'm stuck here," he said, laughing until he seemed to realise what that would mean. "Aw..."

"I'll get Hermes to... do whatever it is he's supposed to do, I guess," Leela said, looking down at Amy. She rubbed her chin and then snapped her fingers. "Or better yet, Amy, you do it. I'll go prep the ship."

"Fine..." Amy dragged herself from her chair and stomped across the room. She paused at the door and turned to lean against the frame. "You know, Leela, it wouldn't hurt if you lightened up a little now and then."

"I'll lighten up when people start obeying their orders," Leela replied. She walked around the table, stepping to one side to dodge the cables Cubert had straggled across the floor. Amy seemed strangely unnerved by Leela's approach; she opened the door and backed up through it. "Remember who's in charge around here."

"All right, I'm going!" The door slid shut with such surprising ferocity that Leela wondered if Amy had been messing with the controls again. She turned to look at Fry, still in his seat by the table.

"We can start moving a few of these things while we're waiting for Hermes to sort out Bender," she said, trying to give him an encouraging smile. Fry just stared at her and pushed his hands into his pockets.

"Sure."

"Come on, Fry, no need to act like a lazy..." Leela's voice faded away as she looked Fry up and down. He never _acted_ lazy, she thought as she shooed him toward the storeroom. Acting implied the possibility of it all being, well, an _act_. "Well, no need to be yourself I guess."

Leela didn't often visit the storerooms. Everything she needed to handle ship maintenance was scattered around the hangar most of the time and normally she didn't take such an active role in actually loading the ship except in the most delicate cases. Planet Express rarely kept client packages on site which meant that the storerooms were normally empty when she visited, but today the store was packed to the ceiling with boxes, all the same colour and same uniform shape. Toward the back a few packages on the company's new 'budget' delivery plan mouldered under a dust-sheet. One of them, the one with the air holes and direction arrow pointing to the floor, had started to emit a rather distressing smell.

Leela cast her eye around the room, wondering just where you should start when all the boxes were essentially identical. "Okay, Fry, start unpacking this shelf here. I'll bring around the loader."

"Right..." Fry lifted a box from the nearest shelf and hefted it. The box, strangely slick and cold, slipped from his hands and fell on the floor, popping off its lid. "Oops."

Leela sighed. "Fry, you could have just destroyed an entire universe!" She lifted the box upright and peered into it for a second. Strange how it seemed to just be an empty box, until you reached inside and...

Something grabbed Leela's hand. She yelled in shock and quickly yanked her arm back. "Dammit, Fry!"

"What? I didn't go sticking _my_ arm in there..." Fry leaned over the box and peered in, then quickly stepped back as a long, slender arm, bony and grey, and covered with a fine matting of pallid hair reached out of the box and began waving around. A hideous face followed it, squinting its huge red eyes against the light.

"What the hell?

Whilst Fry merely pulled a disgusted face at the creature, Leela jumped up with a loud shout and kicked it in the head. The grey ape-thing whimpered and gibbered angrily at her before quickly disappearing back into the box. Leela picked up the lid and slammed it back into place again, panting slightly as a delayed adrenaline rush kicked in.

"That's why you need to be careful with these things," she muttered, catching her breath. Fry's replying shrug was just nervous enough to prevent her losing control at him.

"Can't be that bad in all of them, can it?"

"No, it could be even worse," Leela said, leaning forward on the box while she looked around the room again. The towering stacks of boxes had suddenly taken on a rather more disturbing caste, providing portals to untold dangers and unspeakable horrors, not least some bizarro version of her own self with a blood-lust and a large gun. Leela shook her head; her imagination could be far too vivid at times. "Just to be safe we should probably seal the lids on these things. Wait here, I'll go get some tape."

"Right."

Leaning back against the stack of boxes and thinking about their contents, Fry looked around the room and sighed.

Bender wandered around the corner, rubbing his arms and grumbling something about restraining bolts. He stopped and stared at the neatly stacked boxes before letting out a low whistle. "That's a lot of universe."

"Hi Bender."

"Fry..." Bender leaned on the shelves and stared at his fingers. He flicked a possibly imaginary speck of dirt from the tip of one. "You sound like you're experiencing that human emotion I like to call 'easy mark'. What's up?"

"Leela shouted at me again."

"Leela? Feh," Bender started to walk down the aisle, tapping boxes with one hand while he rubbed his chin with the other. Every now and then he'd pause to repeat the procedure on a particular box before moving on. "She's always shouting at everyone, don't worry about it."

"Yeah, but this time-"

"Ooh! Fry, c'mere!" Bender pulled a box off the shelf and held it out, eyes aglow with more than their usual faint yellow light. "This'll do, how about you and me sneak into this universe and loot it a bit?"

"What? No!"

"Aww, come on, Fry, it'll be fun!" Bender held the box up a little higher and rocked it from side to side. "You might even find a Leela that'll do those squishy human things you seem to enjoy."

"I... no, that wouldn't be right," Fry replied slowly. He watched the box rocking back and forth in Benders hands offering Fry a whole world of wonders he'd never seen before, not least a world where Leela might actually be nice to him once in a while. Although that wasn't really fair... Sometimes she was nice. "I mean... well, I suppose it wouldn't hurt to just _look_..."

"That's the spirit!"

Bender lifted the lid. A toaster, the old fashioned sort covered in chrome and black Bakelite, and sporting an incongruous pair of white wings, reared out of the box with a loud clank and started flapping around near the ceiling. Fry screeched with surprise and dropped the box as the creature swooped and dived at him. He stepped back and fell against the nearest stack of boxes, scattering them across the floor in a clatter of cardboard.

The toaster flapped down and landed on his head, where it a settled down and made contented sizzling noise. Fry tried to push it away but it seemed unwilling to leave its new fuzzy nest so he eventually gave up as a smell of warm toast filled the air.

"Great, Leela's gonna kill me."

"That's the way the booze goes down I guess," Bender said, pulling a cigar from his chest compartment. He turned around. The cigar dropped from his hands, unlit. "Oh."

Bender's surprise was enough to grab Fry's attention. When he looked around he found Leela climbing out of another box. _A_ Leela, anyway. Her hair was black, her clothing – what little she was wearing – had a lot of straps and belts on it, and she seemed to be wearing a lot more make-up than the Leela he was used to. She was also sporting a very large, powerful looking, old-fashioned revolver on her hip. She smiled at Fry as she perched on the edge of the box, one foot dangling into it and the other planted on the floor.

"Hello, Philip."

"Leela? Is that you?"

"Oh, sure it is Fry. Nice to see you again by the way, must have been almost a year since the last time I shot you. Not that _you'd_ remember that..." She pulled herself out of the box and gave the store-room a disdainful glance, almost sneering at the neatly stacked boxes before taking a moment to examine the few cartons tumbled across the floor. Fry started to edge toward the door until the strange Leela turned and, suddenly, he was face to face with the muzzle of that vicious looking revolver. She'd drawn it almost faster than he could blink. "I wouldn't try and escape if I were you."

Fry stopped moving. He swallowed and slowly put his hands up, dislodging the weird flying toaster that roosted on his head. The creature took to the air and swooped at what Fry was rapidly starting to think of as Evila, drawing a surprised yell from her as she fired at the toaster. The bullet passed through the strange beast, puncturing its metal hide but otherwise doing it no apparent harm.

Evila stepped back and swung at the toaster with her free hand whilst the other turned the gun back on Fry. "Must be one of the stranger things I've seen," she said, casually drawing back the revolver's hammer. Denied its comfortable perch, the toaster fluttered to the floor and settled down to roost amongst the boxes where it quietly rattled its lever.

"Wait! What are you-"

"I'm killing you, Philip. Oh I could probably explain why but after the first dozen or so times it gets boring." Evila lowered her gun again and peered at the ceiling. "Of course I could suddenly decide to love you again and forget this whole murderous vengeful rampage but... nah. So long again, Fry."

Bender held up his hand. "How about me?"

Without taking her eyes off Fry, Evila turned the gun toward Bender and fired. The bullet hit Bender in his forehead. He slumped back against the shelving, sparks flying from his neck and mouth.

"Ow! Dammit, that hurt!" Bender rubbed his head and slid along the shelf before he turned to run from the room. "You're crazy, I'm out of here!"

Evila pointed the gun at Fry, her finger tightening around the trigger as she readied herself to fire again. Fry closed his eyes and grit his teeth at the sound of the hammer being drawn back, waiting for the shot. He jumped at the sound of a loud crash... and then didn't die. Evila hadn't fired. Instead the door burst open, cracking Bender full in the face and knocking him into the depths of the storeroom.

"Leela, look out!"

Fry realised he'd shouted. Leela, _his_ Leela, stood framed in the doorway, holding a role of tape in one hand and a wrench in the other, glaring at the messy pile of boxes on the floor. "Fry, what the hell is..." She took in the scene; the toaster, Fry cowering in front of a raven-haired woman, boxes scattered everywhere. "Who is_that_?"

Leela's black-haired twin raised her gun and turned to look at Leela with a wry grin.

"Well, lookie here, another me. Hi there, sister!" She holstered the gun and sauntered toward Leela, hips swaying, her smile broadening with each step. "I see you've kept your Wristomatic. They took mine off me when they put me in the institution... shame, I liked it."

"Fry, after I've kicked her ass you're going to explain _precisely_ what's going on." Leela dropped the tape and was about the drop the wrench when her counterpart suddenly drew her gun again. She sprung, swinging the wrench in a wide arc that knocked the gun from the other Leela's grasp, but then the weight of the tool swung Leela forward and over onto her front. Leela let go of the wrench and twisted in the air but it wasn't quite enough to bring herself upright again. She made a rough landing on her butt on the far side of the scattered boxes.

Leela's counterpart spun around, adopting a classic martial-arts fighting pose. She flicked her eyebrow at Leela. "Not bad form, sister."

"I keep in shape," Leela replied, mirroring the other Leela's pose, stupid as it was. She tensed up, waiting to see how her alter-ego would react. Evila seemed to relax a little, letting the tension draw out of her arms and shoulders as she straightened up, and Leela felt herself involuntarily doing the same. She forced herself to tense up again which was fortunate as, without warning, her counterpart suddenly kicked the strange winged toaster into the air, then spun around and kicked it again at Leela's head. Leela ducked as the thing shimmied past her, its wings flapping madly as it tried to right itself.

She was up almost instantly but it was too late. Leela groaned as her twin's booted feet disappeared into one of the boxes, but then just as quickly she lifted up one of the lids and slammed it down over the box. She dragged the box over to the fallen tape sealed it up in every direction she could think of and then sat on it for good measure. Leela looked down at Fry, still slumped against the stacked boxes and staring into space with an odd blank expression.

"Fry?"

"Hm?" Fry looked up at Leela. "You know, she had bigger-"

"Fry! How can you think about something like that at a time like this?" Leela stood up and started righting more of the boxes. She quickly wrapped a seal of tape around each one to stop the lid from coming off. "I told you to be careful and what do you do? You open the first box you look at!"

"I was going to say boots... anyway, I was bored and Bender wanted to have some fun," Fry said with a shrug. He turned and looked at the box that the dark version of Leela had escaped into. It wasn't the one she'd come out of... and _what_ had she said? "Wait, shot me before? Oh crap."

"Wuaaua?" Leela got down on her knees and pulled the tape from her mouth. When she looked up at Fry he was staring at the first box she'd sealed with both hands stuffed into his mouth. "What's the matter?"

"You're trying to kill me!" Fry whimpered at the sight of Leela and backed up against the boxes again. Leela rolled her eye and dropped the tape as she shuffled over to him.

"I'm not trying to kill you, Fry."

"No, but she is, and she's practically you. She said she'd _shot_ me." Fry looked around the room with obvious terror, his hands squirming at the hem of his coat. "She could come out of any one of these things!"

Fry whimpered, and then seemed to remember he was leaning on the boxes. He jumped away from the shelves, crying out in fear as he flailed his arms around his head and knocking the boxes until they rocked forward and collapsed over on him in thunderous wave.

As the dust settled Leela pushed her way through the piled up boxes, wondering what sort of carnage the collapse might have wrought on the universes within them. Perhaps nothing; a universe was a very big place, after all. She threw a few boxes aside as she dug into the pile that covered Fry, until she reached the spot where he was sitting.

Had been sitting.

"Fry, you idiot..." Leela sighed as she lifted up a box and peered into it, wondering how she'd find him. Just about then Bender sauntered up, rattling every time he turned his head and poking at a ragged hole just above his eyes.

"Jeez, you'd think a small piece of lead wouldn't do so much damage. Good thing I'm insured." He paused to look at Leela. "I guess this means I won't be needed to help load up for a while, huh?"

"Oh, sure. Go do... stuff." Leela ignored Bender as he beat a hasty retreat from the room as she stared at the boxes, frowning. Then a thought struck her. Leela put down the box and stepped back a little, looking for the most likely candidates. Eventually she had a dozen boxes lined up on the floor, all with their lids off. She examined each one in turn, then leaned into the first one and cupped her hands around her mouth. "Fry? Are you in there?"

"Leela?" Fry's voice echoed back through the box, and for a moment Leela thought she might have made an incredibly lucky guess. But then, as she leaned back, a completely different Fry crawled up out of the box to peer at her. His hair was green.

"Oh. Sorry, wrong Fry..."

"No problem. Hey, if you were my Leela, what would it take to convince you to go out with me?" The alternate Fry gave Leela a pleading gaze and smiled shyly. It was almost sweet. Leela tipped her head to one side and thought for a moment.

"If I told you, it'd be cheating," she said with a half-smile, before patting Fry on the head. His face fell slightly, but then he seemed to rally and smiled at her again before dipping back into his box. Leela took out a pen and made a large cross on the lid, then moved on to the next box.

After half a dozen propositions from various alternative versions of Fry – and one from Amy, bizarrely – Leela found him. She leaned over the box and peered through the hazy interface between universes. "Fry? Why does everything look upside down?"

"I'm sorta stuck," Fry replied. His voice was very quiet, moreso than the usual effect of distance that the boxes seemed. Leela leaned forward a little further to try and see if she could peep out of the box and spot him but then, as she moved in, she felt gravity twisting in odd ways. With a surprised screech Leela found she was plummeting through the interface and falling down to a dull grey floor and Fry, slumped against the bottom of a the shelf with a strange grin on his face. She landed head first in his stomach, knocking the wind out of Fry's lungs in a loud, pained gasp.

"Sorry," Leela muttered as she pushed herself up. Fry coughed and fell over on to his side. "Thanks for breaking my fall though."

"Don't mention it," Fry wheezed. Leela gave him a cursory glance, decided he was probably going to survive and returned to looking around their new environment. It looked like the store-room they'd just left, though much better kept and generally greyer, with row upon row of perfectly aligned pale grey boxes lining the shelves and neat stack of packages in the distance that seemed to be sitting in some sort of passive stasis field. She looked up at the box they'd just left; it was knocked over, its broad mouth tilted toward the floor, which explained her sudden fall.

"What an odd place," she said quietly, turning back to Fry. He seemed to have recovered enough to sit upright again. Leela reached down and hauled Fry upright. "We'd better find a way back up to that box."

"Right," he grunted, shoving his hands in his pockets again. Leela looked around the room once more, trying to spot a ladder or some other climbing tool, but nothing made itself obvious. Fry was looking about as well by now. He tapped one of the boxes. "This place has even less colour than your apartment," he said, looking up to the ceiling.

Leela ground her teeth and resisted the urge the whack him about the head with one of the boxes, struck by the realisation that she could almost understand why that other version of herself had snapped.

"We'd better scout around and see if we can find something. I don't know how the crew in this universe will take to us turning up in their store-room unannounced."

"Oh, they'll probably just boast about being married again," Fry grumbled. He looked down at his feet and nudged one of the boxes with his toe; Leela almost expected him to add more but he didn't, mercifully. She held up her wrist computer and started scanning around the building.

"Only one life-form nearby and it doesn't seem to be anyone we know," she said, as she passed the scanner over the room. "Whoever it is, they're coming this way, so we'd better hurry up."

Fry grumbled and started walking down the aisle toward the far wall. He turned at the end, seemed about to say something and then stopped suddenly. "Uh... Leela?"

Leela looked up from trying to adjust her scanner to search for 'ladders' and peered at Fry. He was standing very still, and his face had gone_ very_ pale.

"What's the matter?"

"The guy with the gun is," Fry said, backing up. A large man with a laser pistol followed him around the corner. He paused for a second and frowned when he saw Leela, then narrowed his eyes at her. Leela glared back at him. She wondered if she could take him down and tensed up, ready to strike.

"Okay... whoever you are..." The man – wearing what was obviously a security guard's uniform – kept his gun trained on Leela as he spoke and from the stance he had taken Leela could see he was a professional, which made her think twice about attacking him. She'd probably be toast before she even reached him.

"Here's how it will work out. You two will come with me and leave the building. You'll pretend that you weren't going to do whatever you were about to do in here and in return I'll pretend I didn't see you."

Leela blinked, caught off guard by the man's willingness to let them go. "But we have to-"

"Look, we've been over this once already. You can do this the easy way or the hard way." To make his point he held the gun a little higher. Leela's only reply was to nod. The guard lowered the gun again and pointed over his shoulder with his thumb. "The exit is that way. After you."

"Why are you doing this?" Leela asked as she edged her way around the guard. He shrugged slightly but didn't take his eyes off her as he shooed them out of the room. They emerged in the hangar a short distance from a very stark, silvery version of the Ship.

Everything was various shades of grey and light, cold blue, and spotlessly clean. The entire building had a quiet hush about it, with a stillness that added to the silent emptiness of the hangar. While the guard locked the store-room behind them, Leela and Fry both looked around the strange, sterile version of the world and then looked at each other.

"I've never seen the hangar so clean before," Leela whispered to Fry. He frowned, taking it as the reprimand Leela hadn't intended it to be, but there wasn't much she could do about that.

At the urging of the guard they carried on up the stairs. The conference room and the employee lounge were both equally spartan and unblemished. They were also deserted, filled with silence, and didn't seem to have been occupied for some time. When they reached the lobby Leela paused and turned to the guard. "Look, I know this is going to sound weird but we're not from this universe and we really-"

"Look, lady, I'm doing you a favour by letting you go again," the guard said as he holstered his gun. He stepped back and regarded Fry and Leela, taking a long moment to look at Fry's face. He frowned and seemed about to say something, but then he opened the main entrance and waved them toward it. "If I report this we all have to fill in at least a dozen forms before I can even call the police. Trust me, this is easier."

"But-"

"No buts. If I have to shoot you I will, but it would mean even more paperwork for the bitch- the boss upstairs. I hate paperwork." The door slid closed with a clunking finality, leaving the pair sealed outside on the street. Leela kicked at the door and yelled obscenities at the guard but it didn't achieve much apart from bruising her toe.

"Well great. Just great, thanks a lot Fry, now we're stuck in some parallel universe with no way of getting home." Leela slammed her fist against the door and then turned away. She folded her arms and glared at the buildings on the far side of the street until Fry thought they might crack and fall over.

"Hey don't blame me, you're the one that started fighting with yourself."

Leela turned her terrible glare on him and then looked away again with a loud humph. Fry slunk away from the door and sat down on a nearby bench, where he stared out across the river, head resting on his hands as he watched the water oozing by. Or not oozing, it seemed a lot clearer than home. Everything else seemed to be fairly normal. He frowned and looked over his shoulder at the Planet Express building. It was grey, like everything inside, and sparkling clean, but seemed to be deserted and untended. Fry looked around the quiet street. He could hear traffic noise in the distance which ruled out any of the usual post-apocalyptic ideas running through his head. "Leela, where is everyone?"

"What?" Leela came over and leaned on the back of the bench. She looked around at the strangely quiescent building and frowned. "That's a good point... we should have met at least one of us in there."

"Maybe that guard threw them out," Fry said with a shrug. He returned to staring over the river; Leela gave him a pitying look and then glanced around, then up at the building again. The sun seemed to be a little dimmer than their own, despite the crystal-clear sky, giving everything a permanent twilight feel and making the shadows less distinct, but somehow deeper. A few buildings still had lights on inside despite the time of day, including the Planet Express building. Leela could see a vague silhouette standing in one of the upstairs windows, in the dome where the Professor normally kept his larger experiments. It looked like a woman.

Leela shook her head slowly as she looked around the edges of the building. "I don't think so," she said eventually, then turned away. "It's possible they're just not in today. I mean, who knows what holidays they have in this universe?"

"Free ice-cream Sunday?"

"It's Thursday," Leela replied, trying to stop her mind wandering off on a tangent. She put her hands on Fry's shoulders and pressed him down until he grunted in submission. "We need to speak to one of our counterparts here before we can get in."

Fry rubbed his shoulders as Leela let him go. "Who?"

"Me," Leela said brightly. She set off toward the road with a determined march. "Who else would believe us?"

Fry bit back on the obvious reply. Considering how the last alternate universe version of Leela had treated herself, the chances of them getting back home weren't too high. He trailed after Leela, glancing around now and then at the quiet streets, wondering whether this Leela would try and shoot him as well.


	2. Blue

It had begun to rain by the time they reached Leela's apartment building, adding a dreary pall to the already dull and uninspiring daylight of this earth. Fry hunched his shoulders against the rain and shivered in the chill; it was supposed to be late spring, but it felt more like autumn. He stood under the shelter of the lobby entrance while Leela fought and argued with the locks.

"Why not just axe yourself to buzz us in?"

Leela stopped what she was doing for a moment to glare at Fry. She shook her head, then returned to poking at the control panel. "How would you react if someone claiming to be you turned up and axed to be let into your apartment?"

"I'unno," Fry said with a narrow shrug. He shivered as a short gust of wind shot up the back of his jacket, carrying a sleet of cool rain with it. Leela looked up at him again with something that might have been pity clouding her perfect eye.

"Oh, she must have used a different combination. This is pointless," she said as she straightened up. Leela backed away from the door, put her hands on her hips and peered at the lock. "Well, no point in waiting around."

Leela backed up another step, steadied herself and then, with a short yell, ran forward and leapt into the air. The impact of her kick made the door shudder, and incidentally knocked Leela onto her back. She groaned and let her arms splay out, not caring about the rain that fell on her upturned face. Then, without a word, she pushed herself upright and slunk over to the buzzer.

Fry snickered for a second until Leela's angry eye cut him off. He looked away down the street, peering into the thickening rain. Very little traffic seemed to be coming down the road, and all the pedestrians had been driven indoors by the weather, which only added to the gloomy nature the city seemed to have taken on this world.

Then Fry's heart leapt. A tall and slender figure detached from the shadows of a nearby building and stopped just long enough for Fry to recognise Leela's dark-haired counterpart. She held up a hand; for a moment Fry thought she was holding a gun, but with quick relief he realised it was empty. The dark version of Leela held up her thumb and forefinger and made a shooting motion at him, then made is if to blow smoke from the imaginary gun.

Leela tapped him on the shoulder and he looked, without realising, toward her face. When he glanced back the shadowy figure had gone. "What?"

"You should probably talk to her," Leela said, her voice unusually quiet. She seemed distracted by something, although Fry couldn't really fathom what. It made him nervous in sympathy, though. Leela was normally so sure of herself. She stood back a little and ushered Fry toward the buzzer. Then, before he could react, she'd pressed it and retreated out of sight.

A screen above the buzzer fizzed to life and a silhouette that looked a lot like Leela appeared on the screen, hidden behind static. Without thinking Fry glanced up at the floor Leela's apartment was on, then remembered there weren't any windows. And apparently no lights, either, he thought as he looked back at the screen. "Uh... hi."

"Who is this?"

Fry paused. She didn't know him? That wasn't right... "It's me. Fry."

"Fry who?" The voice sounded uncertain, confused even. Fry briefly wondered if they'd got the wrong apartment, but a quick check told him otherwise. "Wait, aren't you him? The guy I lost in the old city?"

Lost. Somehow, Fry realised, he'd escaped her on this world. Why did that fill him with so much worry? He leaned toward the screen and spoke as quietly as he dared. "Leela, this isn't going to make much sense, but you're kind of right. I'm him. But I'm not him, if you see what I mean. I'm a different version of him."

"You're right, it doesn't make much sense." The silhouette turned away; Fry glanced across at Leela, comparing the two for a moment, noticing some very profound differences even without a detailed view. "Are you playing some sort of trick?"

"Oh just you wait," Fry said. He grabbed Leela and dragged her into view of the screen. Both Leela's gasped at the same time, giving Fry a very odd stereo experience. He winced at the brain-hurting nature of it all and pressed forward. "Some trick huh? I can't explain things now, or ever, really, since it'd sound crazy... what I mean is-"

"We need your help," Leela said suddenly, pushing Fry aside. She leaned toward the screen, narrowing her eye at the other Leela. The other woman was silent just long enough for Fry to think they'd never get in until the door buzzed open. Leela pushed the door open a little further and grabbed Fry's arm.

"Better hurry before she changes her mind," she said. Fry nodded and glanced down the street one last time. It was deserted.

--

The door to apartment One I was open when they reached it, and dark within. Leela gingerly pushed the door a little way and peered into the gloom. "Hello?"

She pushed the door a little further and crept into the room, keeping as quiet as she could in the pervading darkness. Fry followed after, nervously peering into the darkness. He stopped just beyond the threshold and wrapped his arms around himself. "This isn't right," he said quietly, and then peered into the darkness. He lifted his arm to the wall and felt about for a light-switch.

"Why is it so dark in here?"

"I like it that way," Leela said. And then: "That wasn't me!"

There was a yell and a loud thump as someone fell to the floor. Fry finally found the light-switch and slapped it hard, casting the entire room in a bright, unnatural glare that revealed Leela leaning over the prone form of her alter-self. The apartment was as spartan and austere as Leela's apartment back home but, in contrast to the rest of the world outside, somehow shabbier and less pristine. Piles of discarded food wrappers had gathered in the corners, and the carpet was bare and stiff with dust and the crusted remnants of spilled food and drinks. The ParaLeela herself lay in a heap on the floor, her skin pallid and grey, her muscle-tone almost non-existent, as if she never did anything more demanding than lifting her own weight. Her hair was an almost identical colour to Leela's, though duller like everything else in the world, and maybe a little bluer.

She was weeping quietly. Leela knelt down next to her counterpart and lifted her up onto her knee.

"Are you all right?"

"Do I look all right?" Blue Leela shielded her eye against the brightness of the room and groaned. "Turn the damn light off. I don't deserve to see it."

"Now what's that supposed to mean," Leela said, propping the other woman upright. She waved Fry over; he knelt down beside them and tried to look supportive, but only managed a pained grimace. Fortunately neither woman noticed. Leela stroked back a strand of her counterpart's greasy hair and then discreetly wiped her fingers on her shirt.

The alternate Leela inched her eye open and stared at Leela, obviously confused. "You don't know?"

"Know what?"

Leela and Fry both leaned forward, but not too close, and Fry had to resist the urge to cover up his nose as their proximity made it clear this alternate Leela probably hadn't changed her clothes in weeks. She looked away and let out a melancholy giggle.

"You've spent your whole life wondering where the rest of your species are, haven't you?"

"Well, yes but-"

"I found out, you know," she persisted, ignoring Leela's attempt to speak. She levered herself from Leela's arms and crawled away across the floor toward a discarded liquor bottle. "I found out where I came from."

Leela gasped as her twin tore the cap from the bottle and took a deep swig of the liquor. She leaped to her feet and was at the other's side in three strides just as the other woman was settling herself into the corner of the room. Leela snatched the bottle from her counterpart, who looked up at her in confusion and then seemed to resign herself to the sudden lack of alcohol.

"You're just my imagination anyway," she said, and let her arms flop to the floor. Leela tossed the bottle away and knelt down by her counterpart.

"I know where I came from too," she said quietly, taking her alternate's hand. She patted it a couple of times. "It's not so bad once you get used to the idea."

"How the hell could you get used to being a... a..."

"Mutant," Leela finished. She wiped a tear from the other's face and smiled at her.

"I'm a mutant..."

Leela smiled and nodded. "See? It's not so hard. Besides, if you've found that out then you've met our parents as well. That has to make up for something, right?"

"I never _met_ my parents," the other said, her face downcast. She tried to push Leela away but failed, a combination of lack of exercise and alcohol robbing her of all her strength. Leela smiled slightly.

"Well in that case we could go and-"

"I killed them," she said quietly. Leela let the twin's hand drop to the floor, and then her own hands to her sides. She stared at her doppelgänger's face for a moment, then turned to look at Fry, her brow wrinkling as she thought back to her first encounter with her parents.

"Didn't Fry stop..." her voice trailed off. Leela slowly stood up and backed away from her counterpart, then edged toward Fry. She took his arm and pulled him to the far side of the room. "This is bad."

"Why?"

Leela looked over her shoulder. She leaned a little closer to Fry so that she could whisper without being overheard.

"You remember how I found my parents?"

"Yeah, you nearly shot them. Good job I was there to save the day..." Fry's voice trailed off and his eyes widened as he looked over at the alternate Leela. "Didn't she say she lost me underground somewhere?"

"That's right. You weren't there to stop her killing her parents," Leela said in an urgent whisper. She glanced over at the other Leela, who was now sliding herself across the floor toward the discarded liquor bottle. "I thought they'd killed my parents and taken their stuff, I was pretty screwed up in the head by then. If I'd shot them and then found out who they were _afterwards_... I can't imagine how I would have ended up."

Fry looked around the apartment, noted the unkempt piles of garbage in the corners, and shrugged again. "Like this?"

"I guess..." Leela turned back to look at her counterpart, uncertainty curling her lips down ever so slightly. She flexed her fingers, balling and un-balling fists as she tried to workout what to do. "I'd hoped she could get us back into Planet Express, but I don't think she even works there. I should have realised when that guard didn't recognise me."

"Maybe he did and just didn't want to say anything," he said after a moment of thought. Leela looked over her shoulder at him, frowned, and seemed ready to say something, only to relent a moment later. She looked back at herself, slumped in the grim emptiness of her apartment, completely alone.

Fry took a deep breath and shoved his hands in his pockets. "If she doesn't work there then maybe we should just go," he said quietly. Leela shook her head.

"No. We've got to do something about this." Her voice was just as quiet, but determined. Leela took a step toward herself only to be jerked back by Fry's sudden, insistent hand on her arm.

"Leela, she killed your parents! Her, your, I mean..." Fry's voice trailed off as he tried to figure out what he meant. His arm dropped to his side again. "What if she does it again?"

"She wasn't sane," Leela retorted. Blue – if she had to pick a name it seemed appropriate to go with her hair colour – had finally reached the bottle and sprawled pathetically across the floor, trying to push its neck into her mouth to suck at the remnants of the liquor inside. Leela strode over to her and kicked the bottle away. It clattered into the corner of the room, bounced once off the drab wall before it came to rest on the floor.

"Whazza... go away, stupid dream version of me..."

"Not until you sober up," Leela said, reaching down to pull her other self upright. She dragged the other Leela over to her chair and sat her down, taking care to clean the junk-food wrappers and scraps of stale food away before she lowered her counterpart into the seat, then stood back. Blue slumped sideways in the chair, arms limp, glaring at Leela with impotent fury.

Leela put her hands on her hips and stared back at herself. She took in the pale skin and dark bag under her mirror's eye, and her unkempt hair. "You're a real wreck, aren't you?"

"I'm a stinky mutant, why should I care how I look?"

"Fry, go make some coffee," she said, not taking her eye off Blue. Fry nodded and shuffled from the room, and Leela found herself hoping this parallel universe version of herself hadn't completely emptied her kitchen yet. She leaned against the wall and watched her companion for a while, curious about her lack of self respect. "So, while we're waiting, why don't you tell me how you found all this out?"

Her twin glared at Leela and her mouth curled down in anger. "What do you care," she spat, lifting an accusing finger to Leela. "Maybe in your imaginary dream-world it's okay to be a mutant. Maybe you can still fly your ship and keep your job-"

"Ship? You still work for Planet Express?" Leela pushed away from the wall and took a step toward her other self. The other Leela frowned at her, uncertain in the face of so many questions. "You still fly?"

"You know I did, until six months ago when that uptight bureaucrat fired me for incompetence. Hah." She reached under the chair and retrieved a fresh bottle of liquor. Leela snatched the bottle from her meta-sister's hand before she could even break the seal and held it up in the air, where her twin waved at it a few times before giving up the fight. She slumped back into the seat with her eye squeezed shut. "That one wouldn't know incompetent if it came and bit em on the ass..."

With the bottle cradled in her arms Leela backed away until she was out of Blue's reach. "So, after you got intimate with our friend here, Hermes fired you?"

"Hermes? He disappeared years ago." The Blue Leela opened her eye and glared at the bottle in Leela's arms. Then she looked away, stared at the blank wall and sighed. "That bitch-woman, Morgan Proctor, she put me on 'administrative leave' after she took over the company. Not like I cared though. By then we weren't even doing deliveries any more." She held up her hands and wiggled her fingers sarcastically. "It wasn't an 'efficient use of resources'. I don't think I've been outside more than a dozen times since I came home that day."

Leela turned away with a sudden wish for a window to look out of. Standing in this strange, but familiar version of her apartment she suddenly realised how well it kept the outside world at bay, kept her safe from contact with people, and how easily it could turn into a prison.

"You can't just hide away from these things," she said quietly as she turned to look at her counterpart. The other Leela continued staring at the wall, and seemed unwilling to even acknowledge her presence. Leela pressed on regardless. "Some day you'll have to come to terms with what happened."

Her double turned a rheumy eye toward Leela, revealing a hint of how much drinking she'd done recently. Leela felt a strange, terrible feeling in her gut; to even consider the possibility that she could sink this low made her stomach churn.

"Coffee's ready," Fry said as he slipped back into the room bearing a huge, steaming pot of coffee on a tray. He looked around, trying to find somewhere to set the tray down. Finding no table he set it on the floor next to Leela's chair. "I couldn't find any milk, but you do have a lot of very tasty cheese cartons."

"Fry, that _was _the milk," Leela said. She regarded her friend for a moment as he knelt and poured a cup of coffee, and scratched his rear-end at the same time. Somehow having him around was a reminder that life wasn't really so bad. Perhaps, without him, she might have... Leela quickly pushed the thought away and returned to her counterpart.

"We need to get back into Planet Express," she said quickly. Her alternate folded her arms and glared at the bottle in Leela's hands. Leela sighed as she handed the bottle over. "Like I said, we need your help."

"Easy, just walk in," Blue said, uncapping the bottle. She held it up to the light as if trying to appreciate the colour, then lifted the bottle to her lips and took a deep swallow. "Just walk right on into the place, s'not like anyone cares any more," she added, waving the bottle about for effect. "Not since Proctor locked the Professor into that death satellite and had the rest of the staff re-assigned."

"But the guard...?"

"Feh, guards come and guards go. Shoot him or something, I don't give a rats." The double took another draught from the bottle. She looked up at Leela again. "What were they like?"

"I'm sorry?"

"My parents..." she let out a sigh and carefully placed the bottle on the floor, where it was immediately knocked over by Fry. He muttered an apology as he shovelled something that probably wasn't sugar into one of the cups but Blue just closed her eye and shivered.

"When I pulled back the first hood and saw her face, I... she was still... still alive then. She said she loved me, and then..."

She didn't start crying, just seemed to sink into her chair, as if her body had suddenly lost its internal support. An unseeing eye turned toward Leela and stared right through her. "I never even knew their names."

Leela knelt down next to her counterpart and held her hand, then gently touched Blue's shoulder. "She was called Munda," she said quietly. "And Morris."

"Munda..." Blue rolled the word around her mouth with a sad, distant smile. Her eye slowly rolled toward the floor, where she spotted Fry holding up a cup of coffee. He held out the cup and gave her an encouraging smile, but she didn't take it.

"Fry, this might be a good time for you to leave me alone for a few minutes."

Fry's face fell. He frowned at his coffee. "I was only trying to help."

"I know, and I appreciate it. We both do," Leela said as Fry stood up. She took his arm and guided him toward the apartment door, where she paused for a moment with her eye fixed on some slight stain that marred the otherwise clean wall by the door-frame. "Look, I need to say a few things to her, and having you around... well it's woman stuff. You understand? We'll just be a few minutes."

"Oh, sure, woman stuff." Fry pushed his hands into his pockets and slouched toward the door. "Amy tried to teach me about all that once but I could never understand the off-side rule. No, wait, that was Hermes and soccer."

"Out, Fry..." Leela opened the door and shoved Fry out into the brightly-lit, deserted hallway. The door clicked shut, leaving Fry alone. He looked about the hallway for something to do but quickly realised that there was nothing. It was a _hall_, at the end of the day. People walked through it. They didn't usually do anything there except on rare occasions when the door was locked and they couldn't wait, or at least that was Fry's experience.

"Stupid feminine want and needs," he grumbled under his breath.

After a few minutes leaning against the door he was bored of the silence and, with nothing to entertain him, it looked like he would be that way for a while. Fry stood up and wandered down the hall to an end window. It was round, like all the windows on the building, and it gave Fry a good view over the street below as he leaned on the sill and stared at the pavement for a while. The rain bounced and shimmered across the paving in short waves, pattering against the window now and then on stray gusts of ocean wind. Fry turned a little to peer up and down the strangely deserted road – he remembered there always being a huge queue of traffic around Leela's place on the few times he'd been anywhere near it – but he couldn't see any sign of the scary Leela.

A movement in the corner of his eye caught Fry's attention and his throat tightened with fear until he realised it was just a sign waving from a nearby lamppost. Fry probed around the window until he found a latch, then pushed it open. As he leaned out for a better look he heard a loud metallic click from below his window, accompanied by the sound of something creaking.

"Hello Fry."

Her voice, that lovely, terrible voice, echoed up from below at about the same time the gun's barrel poked into Fry's left nostril. Fry whimpered and stumbled back until his fall was brought short by a hand grabbing his shirt. Leela's face rose up to meet him as she hauled herself up against his weight, her eye filled with bitter hatred and yet strangely amused, as if the very sight of him was somehow incredibly funny. She pulled him close until their noses were touching and then shoved the gun into his mouth.

"Miss me?"

"Nmf?" Fry lifted back his head to get the gun from between his teeth. "Leela, why are you still doing this?"

"No time to explain," Leela said, returning the gun to Fry's mouth. Fry heart thumped hard when the ancient weapon's ratchet clicked as she started to squeeze the trigger, and he saw her eye widen, pupil dilating, filling with an intensity and passion he'd rarely seen on Leela's face. She was _enjoying_ this?

"Fwaif!" Desperate, Fry kicked back against the wall. Leela lost her grip on his shirt and he felt a sudden pain as the gun's sight tore against his lip and gum. The impulsive action finished Leela's movement for her; the gun fired, surprisingly quiet in the narrow corridor. Fry could swear he saw the bullet streak in front of his face as he stumbled backwards down the hall.

A light-fitting exploded in a shower of sparks and plunged the middle of the hallway into darkness just as Fry slumped down beside an apartment door. He screamed – it was an annoyingly girly scream, some part of his mind grumbled – and rammed himself up against the wall. Realising this was no good he turned, meaning to push himself toward Leela's apartment, then groaned as he saw the door swinging toward him in a peculiar slow motion. The thick composite cracked against his skull and, for just a moment, everything went black.

--

Leela fell to the ground and landed on her rear with a thump that knocked the air out of her lungs. Her gun clattered to the ground a moment later, just as the window clicked back into its frame She glared up at it, ignoring the rain that fell in fitful sheets around her, and laughed shortly at the ultimate futility of his escape. She'd have him, sooner or later.

Still doing this, he'd said. She should have known that one would be trouble, he'd seemed different the first time they'd met. The same, but somehow calmer, or perhaps just more ignorant. Yeah, that must be it. Now he was here too...

Leela picked up her gun, wiped the worst of the grime from its metal hide and then slipped it into the holster at her hip. Last time she'd met this Fry she'd almost lost it, and losing the weapon that had give her purpose, which reminded Leela that she was short of bullets and that it might be a good time to head home again.

"Next universe," she muttered as she pulled out the gun again to give it a more careful examination. She spun the barrel, revelled in the rapid clatter of the ratchet and the rhythmic flicker of the remaining rounds in their chambers. Leela stepped away from the building and looked up at the now-darkened window, blinking at the rain that sputtered over her upturned eye. No chance to get in there tonight, but that didn't matter; there were still other Philips to fry. She turned, oblivious to the thickening rain, and looked about the street. There was another one somewhere around here, another prey to hunt. She'd find him and deal with him first, and then she'd return for this one later, and if he'd got away again, well, she'd just have to move on to the next.

Leela set off down the street to resume her hunt. After a few steps she was whistling the happy tune she remembered from the institute radio, and soon afterwards she was skipping along and splashing in the puddles as she thought about her next meeting with Philip.

It was all so much _fun_!

--

"Fry, wake up. Fry!" There was a slapping sound, followed by something that could reasonably be called pain, and Fry realised he was awake again. He groaned, shook his head to relieve the stinging in his cheek, then opened his eyes and looked up. A giant pair of eyes regarded him with a mixture of resigned amusement and drunken suspicion. No wait, that wasn't right. Fry shook his head and blinked, and the eyes resolved into two Leelas staring down at him.

Leela,_his_ Leela, turned away to look at her ersatz twin. "Back home I have a dermal re-generator in the kitchen, I don't suppose-"

"I'll get it," the other said, before disappearing from view. Her voice sounded rough, as if she'd been crying. Dermal re-generator? Fry sat up and-

"Ow! My head..." Fry reached up to touch his forehead and hissed in pain as his fingers probed at the stiff welt just above his left eye. He looked around the apartment until he found the door, mercifully sealed. "What... Leela, she was out there, you have to-"

"Hush." Leela helped Fry up to a sitting position and patted down his jacket. "Who was out there, Fry?"

"Uh... you. Her." Fry's eyes wandered around the room as he fought for a description. "The one before we came here that attacked you and shot Bender and wasn't wearing any pants."

Leela's brow twisted in confusion, an odd sight given she only had one eye. "Fry, that doesn't make much sense. She went into a completely different universe. You've bumped your head."

She stood up and held her hand out to help Fry to his feet. Fry touched his forehead again as he recalled the whack the door had given him and felt a few tiny scratches from the shattered fixture as well.

"But she shot at me! And how do you explain that light exploding?"

"I've been on at the landlord for months to get that thing fixed." Leela guided Fry to the single chair and sat him down in it just before her counterpart returned. She took the dermal regenerator, a small cylindrical device with a rotating interior, and peered at it. "Thanks. Look, Fry, the most likely explanation is that you were asleep, and the light exploding made you have a bad dream. That's all."

"I've been on at the landlord about that light for months," the second Leela added with some feeling. Then her face dropped and she looked down at the floor. "Not that it would have made much difference..."

Fry glanced between the two almost-identical faces as Leela applied the regenerator to his forehead. He felt the bruise tingling and a strange, itchy sensation twinged somewhere behind his eyes.

"I don't know..." He kept his voice low, just in case _she_ heard him. But, then, was she even there? The rhythmic buzzing if the regenerator increased its intensity as Leela waved the device over other parts of his skin and Fry could feel himself relaxing as the dull ache he hadn't even noticed started to fade away, replaced with a strange warm sensation across his forehead. Maybe he had dreamed it. Not that it mattered, with the door shut they wouldn't have to worry about her anyway.

The machine snapped off. Fry opened eyes he hadn't even noticed closing and looked up at Leela. She smiled at him and tapped her finger against his forehead whilst her counterpart folded the machine up again. "That should do it."

Fry sat up, his vision much clearer now the pain had gone. He reached up to touch the bruise and found it completely healed. "So I guess we're staying here tonight?"

"Yep. Leela, here," Leela said, indicating her pseudo-sister with a wry grin, "is letting us crash here tonight. You're staying out here, I'll be in there with... myself, I guess. Feel free to watch television and try not to eat any more 'cheese'."

"Oh..." Blue frowned and folded her arms across her chest as if she were cold. She looked between Leela and Fry with obvious confusion. "I thought you two would... I mean-"

"No!" Leela blinked and laughed nervously at the force of her own reply. She took her twin's arm to guide her toward the bedroom. "We aren't a couple if that's what you mean."

"You aren't?" Blue looked over her shoulder at Fry, confusion clouding her face for a moment. The eye made her so easy to read, Fry thought sadly, watching her as the door closed. "But he's so cute..."

Fry turned back to stare at the blank television. Once, just once, he wished he could hear _his_ Leela utter that phrase without kicking him in the balls afterwards. Metaphorically speaking, anyway, he thought, as he reached under the seat and pulled out the half-full bottle of liquor. Leela really had sunk low in this world and in all likelihood he, Philip Fry, was dead at the bottom of some ruined gulley in the remains of old New York. It was worth a drink.

"Here's to another lousy universe," Fry said, raising the bottle in mock salute. He downed a gulp of the liquor only to choke most of it back up again as the fiery liquid stripped the inside of his throat raw.

"Ugh... it's like swallowing hot nails! How can she drink this stuff?"

Fry peered at the bottle, shrugged and took another gulp. It was a lot smoother this time though, truth be told, that was probably because his throat had just gone numb. He didn't feel quite so scared any more. Two Leela's against one was always good odds, even if the one_did_ have a gun. A very odd gun...

Fry's eyes snapped open. The room was pitch-black apart from a faint glow from a chronometer by the side of the giant TV screen that read something ridiculously early in the morning. He stared at it, willing himself to understand the numbers, but they slipped away to a ruddy, senseless blur each time he tried to focus.

"There's no five in the morning..." he muttered, rolling his head to one side. Where had he been? Gun. It had been an old pistol, the sort Dirty Harry would have been using to get lucky. Something about the gun nagged at Fry, preventing him from getting back to sleep. Something about the way it worked.

Bullet! Fry leaped from the chair and then immediately stumbled over the discarded liquor bottle, spilling its remaining contents across the floor. Not that it made much difference to the smell. Fry didn't care about that, anyway; if he could find the spent bullet he could prove to Leela that he hadn't been dreaming!

He felt his way along the wall toward the apartment door and then paused, suddenly wary. What if _she_ was waiting out there? But, then, would she bother waiting? Wouldn't she have simply broken her way in? Fry shivered in anticipation of what might come and opened the door a crack with the full expectation of a bullet in the gut for his troubles. Nothing. He let out an audible sigh of relief and let the door swing wide.

The hall was bright to his dark-accustomed eyes, but dim at the same time, and silent. Shards of ceramic and metal littered the floor underneath the destroyed light fitting, glinting in the remaining lights and the pale false dawn that shone in through the window. Fry gingerly stepped out into the hall, carefully avoiding the worst mess and conscious of the noise his steps made on the detritus that must surely have woken the entire floor again. He paused for a moment to make sure the apartment door was off its latch and wouldn't lock him out, then moved on toward the centre of the hall.

From underneath the light-fitting looked fairly well wrecked, the ceiling scorched in a wide arc around the fitting, cracked in a few places where its protected surface polymer sheath had bubbled away. He knew a simple failing light wouldn't do that, even in these days of high-power plasma bulbs and electronium filaments. Unfortunately he couldn't see any way to climb up to the fitting, and he couldn't spot any obvious bullet inside it from down here. Fry shook his head sadly and looked away, letting his eyes rove over the destruction while until they came to rest on a small, dull-silver object resting on the floor. It looked about right.

Fry picked up the bullet and rocked it back and forth in his hand, examining the slightly flattened slug of metal from every angle, willing himself to remember any tricks he could think of from the old cop shows. T.J. Hooker had always been able to guess the size of a bullet from just looking at it but Fry couldn't seem find the little numbers he must have been using. Maybe they'd been rubbed off by the carpet.

He looked over his shoulder at the pale grey circle of the window and shuddered; he'd been _that_ close to having his brains blown out, he still didn't know why she was using the old gun, or even why she was after him, but now he had another reason to get home as fast as possible. Fry pocketed the bullet and crept back into the apartment, closed the door and locked it tight, then leaned back against it with a relieved outlet of breath.

He put his hand back in his pocket to touch the proof of the attack and then crept across the apartment to Leela's bedroom with a little trepidation. Maybe it would be better to wait until the morning? But then again, if they waited until then, _she_ might find some way to get to him. No, there was no choice. Fry leaned up against the door and raised his hand to knock.

Which was just about when Leela started to cry. Some strange instinct made Fry push his ear up against the door because, even though he knew it was rude to eavesdrop, the thought of Leela crying overrode any sense of propriety. Fry knew it wasn't _his_ Leela that was crying, but the voice was almost the same, and had the same effect on him as his heart leapt into his throat. Leela almost never cried, even when she knew he was in a lot of trouble. She hadn't even cried that time she'd had to hit him until _he_ cried, and when she did it was a voluminous wail, not the bitter emaciated weeping he could hear through the door. The sound of someone so crushed by life that they couldn't even cry properly.

There were muttered words that might have been encouragement and the quiet sobbing died away again. Fry stepped back and took the bullet from his pocket. He looked at it in the twilight of the room and sighed, then zipped it into an inside pocket to keep it safe before tip-toeing back to his seat in front of the oversized television screen. He'd tell her about it tomorrow.


	3. An Office with a View

Fry woke again, still in the chair, but bathed in a bright light. The screen in front of him was glowing bright white and filled with fuzzing static that seemed to dance with a thousand almost-visible images of people walking to and fro, skipping and jumping from one spot to another and then fading back to nothing, like a vague and annoyingly steamed-up window onto a million parallel lives. Fry sat up and tugged the remote out from beneath his leg; the movement knocked the empty bottle under the chair against one of the coffee cups he'd left there the night before. With a tired grunt Fry turned his eyes away from the screen as Leela walked into his field of vision, rubbing her hands with a towel.

"So, you're awake." There was a that little smile and no pain etched on her face which mean it was _his_ Leela. Fry smiled back and tried to push himself out of the chair, an act he managed with some difficulty after finding out his left leg had fallen asleep. He leaned against the chair back and flopped the leg around to try and get some blood flowing.

"Yeah. Leela, I found something last night." Fry grunted and had to stop talking for a moment as all the nerves in his leg suddenly started working again. It felt as if he had the thing trapped in a spiny ant-eater nest or something. Finally, after he was sure he could stand without his knee bending backward, Fry felt around in his pocket for the bullet. It was gone. He paused, grinned nervously and searched his other pockets in confusion. "It was here before..."

Leela looked on with a skeptical eye as Fry patted his other pockets. "Sure you didn't dream-"

"Wait, got it!" Fry reached into his inside pocket and pulled out the lumpen lead slug, which he held up between finger and thumb in front of Leela's face. "See? She was here!"

"Fry..." Leela took the bullet between her fingers and held it up to the light. "This is just a piece of metal," she said, dropping it back into Fry's palm. She shook her head sadly. "It's probably something out of the light fitting. Face it, Fry, you've had a stressful day and night, and you've been drinking that... that drink, and it's made you have nightmares."

"But, but she was _here,_" Fry whined as he stared at the leaden slug. In the light of day it did look a bit less bullet-shaped than he'd thought the night before. Then again, somehow, he knew what a bullet should look like and this was it. More to the point, Leela _wouldn't_ know. She was used to laser pistols and plasma rifles. "Besides, how many light fittings have lead in them?"

"Oh, you'd be surprised," Leela replied. She turned her back on Fry and walked toward the bedroom. "Get cleaned up, we're taking 'me' to see a doctor and then we're going to figure out a way to sort this crazy-ass world out again."

"But, Leela, she-"

"Enough, Fry!" Leela turned around and glared at Fry with her hands on her hips, giving him a chance to see how little sleep she'd had the night before.

In the face of that stare Fry simply had to give in. He shrugged and put the bullet back in his pocket, making a mental note to check it up once they got back home; the internet was always full of that sort of information. He shook out his coat, smoothed back his hair and turned to smile at Leela but she was already back in the bedroom, which left him feeling a little silly. Fry made his way over to the door and peered around the edge into the dim recesses of the room he'd rarely seen before.

For a moment the sight of two Leela's sitting on the bed caused strange ideas to roam through his mind and he stumbled, even though he hadn't been walking, and had to grab hold of the nearest support to stop himself falling which, unfortunately, turned out to be a small table just inside the door. The pressure of his fall knocked it over and sent something flying into the room where it landed with a loud smack.

Both women were staring at Fry as he righted himself. He tugged at his coat and let out a nervous laugh, to which neither version of Leela gave any reply except to look at the other with something like confused contempt.

"Still think he's cute?"

"I'm withholding judgement. Oh..." Blue stood up and rubbed her temples, and then screwed her eye up and rubbed a shivery hand across her face. "I feel like crap..."

"You will. These detox pills always go that way," Leela replied as she accompanied her counterpart, hands gripped around Blue's ill-defined biceps for just a moment, before she leaned over to pick up the plastic vase Fry had sent flying and re-seated it on its table by the door. Leela gave Fry a quick glance and a half-smile, probably trying to encourage him somehow, then turned her attention back to her other self.

"Time to go."

"Can't I just have one-"

"No!" Leela took her counterpart's arms by the wrists and held them up. Blue struggled against Leela's grip but her strength had apparently wasted away over the weeks of her self-imposed isolation to the point where she was barely able to even twist her arms free. Leela grimace at the sight and quickly let go to spare herself the embarrassment. "We need you sober."

"What about _my_ needs?"

"_You_ need you sober. You aren't going to get your job back if you're half way down a bottle of bourbon!"

"Fine..." Leela's counterpart lowered her head and resumed rubbing her temples. From Fry's point of view it was obvious she wasn't in the best shape but Leela seemed intent on driving her forward, as if she couldn't stand to see herself in this state. Fry waited by the door as Leela walked from the room, so deep in thought that she didn't even look at Fry when she passed. Fry waited for Leela to leave before he slipped inside the door and pushed it part-way closed.

He took a step toward the bed, where Blue was sitting down again, shading her eye with her hands against the bright morning sunlight that streamed in the window. Every now and then she winced as another detox cycle kicked in.

"Leela?"

She opened her eye and looked at him. For a moment it seemed like she was looking at him for the first time in her life which, in a way, was almost true.

"Did you mean... what you said, last night?"

She gave a non-committal shrug and looked away.

"I was drunk. Besides," she said, giving him another appraising look. "You're the first man I've really looked at for months."

"Yeah, but did you... never mind." Fry hovered by the bed, wanting to sit down but worried it might be misinterpreted, until Blue patted the bed beside her.

"Sit down." She waited for Fry to slump onto the hard mattress and then looked at him, eye tightening slightly as the detox pills went to work again. "Since we're asking questions, maybe you can answer one for me."

"Sure... anything." Fry tried to smile. Blue had already looked away, though, staring at her hands as she pressed them between her knees, so vulnerable that Fry almost couldn't recognise her.

"You met my parents." It wasn't a question. Fry nodded, though she wasn't looking at him to see it. When she spoke it was almost as if Fry wasn't there. "They looked a lot like me."

"Oh, yeah. If it wasn't for your mom's arms I would have trouble telling you two... apart, hey..." Fry put his hand up to touch Blue's shoulder but hesitated at the last minute as a tear ran down her cheek. He wasn't sure how she'd react, didn't want to find out in a painful way. Then she shook her head and scrubbed her arm across her face to wipe away the tears, and even smiled a little.

"She said you were there with her." Fry nodded again. Blue's brow creased a little as if she were having a hard time concentrating. "And you saved them?"

_Saved them from me_, she didn't add. Fry looked away, around the bedroom, not quite as spartan as the living room but still virtually empty, with just a few mementos on the walls and the ruffled bed giving any sign someone had ever lived there. The air was dusty, the walls streaked with hints of grime and grease that meant whatever normally kept the place clean was either abandoned or no longer working.

"Leela, I'm sorry." He did touch her this time, lightly, on the shoulder. Blue shivered at the touch. Or possibly because she was still detoxing, Fry wasn't really sure. Her skin felt hot and terribly dry. "I wasn't there when you needed me. I suppose I never am anyway, but your parents-"

Fry's words dried up in his throat as Blue's face closed up like a collapsing cavern.

"I don't want to talk about it," she said, and then turned away again. Fry grunted assent, put his hands in his pockets and shuffled back toward the door. Before opening it again he paused and looked back at Blue.

"I've always wanted to say..." he began, but the words jammed in his throat. Leela... she wasn't his Leela, but she was close enough as to make no difference. Leela didn't take his complements very well most of the _time. Say it, Fry! You're beautiful!_ "Uh... you have nice boots."

The corners of her mouth twitched slightly. Fry tried to smile as she stood up, but all he managed was the same slightly ugly grimace, which wasn't helped by the way he'd slept the night before. This Leela walked up to him, took a moment to look down at her boots, then pushed past Fry and left the room. He sighed and leaned his head against the door-frame, let the cool plasteel leech away the heat from his flushed forehead. Why didn't he just say it?

_Because it wouldn't have been right..._

_But she needed to hear it from _someone

Fry looked back into the living room, if it could really be called that. They were talking and, every now and then, one or the other would look his way like some species of freakishly tall one-eyed meerkat. Fry felt his mouth drying out at the thought of what they might be saying to each other about him – _if_ that's what they were talking about.

"Well I guess we should get going." Leela walked up to Fry and put her fists on her hips. "I made an appointment at the clinic on forty-second and Quatzl, that should be anonymous enough."

"Right..."

Fry followed the pair toward the door and felt his guts begin to tangle as they exited the apartment, but he was no longer sure whether it was because of _her_ or because of something a little closer to home.

--

"That was embarrassing."

They were stood outside the rather run-down looking Sisters of Petulant Mercy clinic a little way from the corner of Quatzl Avenue. The street itself was still wet from the rain that had fallen all night, but the sun – feeble as it seemed to be on this world – was rising high and the sky was as clear as when they'd arrived, so that the wet concrete and stone sparkled like polished glass, making their surroundings almost too bright to look at. All three of them had to shade their eyes against the crystalline glare as the sunlight chased down the length of the street, leaving them no shade to turn to.

Leela shrugged the Applied Cryogenics jacket she'd borrowed a little closer to her neck and then turned up the collar. Despite the bright light this world still felt much cooler than she was used to, though her counterpart seemed to have no such problem.

"It was necessary," she said, feeling a little put out. "Besides, he's friendly for-"

"I get it," the other answered, cutting off Leela before she could utter the hated word. Blue glanced down at the pack of mineral supplements and energy bars gripped between her fingers. "You could have mentioned it's a V.D. clinic."

"You wouldn't have gone," Leela replied. She looked up at the sign, which gave little clue as to what the clinic actually did beyond being a medical institution. "It took my parents a whole day of arguing to convince me to go for a check-up."

Blue winced as soon as she heard the word "parents" and, for a moment, Leela was worried she'd make a scene or retreat back into the almost catatonic weeping she'd resorted to the night before. She made a mental not to avoid mentioning the subject for a while and turned away to look up the street, which she'd always remembered being busier than it seemed to be on this world. In fact there was barely even a queue of traffic.

"That's... weird."

"Whaff?" Blue swallowed the mouthful of energy bar she'd tried talking through and licked her lips. "What's weird?"

"Everything seems so quiet here. Where is everyone?"

Blue looked up and down the street in obvious confusion. She narrowed her eye at Leela. "Your world must be awfully crowded if you think this is quiet."

Leela and Fry looked at each other, then at the street, unspoken but jealous thoughts passing between them.

"It doesn't matter," Leela said shortly, shrugging at her coat again. There were _some_ disadvantages to this world. "We'd better head over to the D.M.S.V. and see if we can get your license sorted out. Have you got the forms?"

"Sure," Blue said, holding up a sheet of paper with an official looking stamp on it. "The doc said I was in good shape apart from the mineral deficiency. This should be a snap!"

The stamp came down heavily on the form with a loud and very final _thump_ that splattered just a tiny bit of ink on the page. The stamp's owner, a young woman who would have been attractive if she ever smiled, but was otherwise merely intimidating, placed the stamp back in its niche and pushed the form across her desk with a single finger, as if she wished to have as little contact with it as possible.

"I'm sorry, your re-licensing request has been denied," she said briskly before turning to her computer screen. "If you wish you may apply for a new license application form with Request eleven thirty-two B, however you will need to fill out request requisition forms fifteen and thirty six as well as declaration-"

"Never mind," both Leela's said simultaneously. The clerk raised her eyebrow and gave them a pointed sideways glance before returning her attention to the screen. Fry leaned forward to see if he could get a view of what she was writing but the clerk spotted him and pushed the screen around and out of sight. She raised her eyebrow again; somehow it had a strangely commanding effect on him... and then she _did_smile. Fry hurried to turn away before she could speak and followed Leela toward the doors.

"That was a bust," Blue said, staring at the red stamp on her papers. When she looked up again her eye was starting to water; the beginnings of a tear started to trickle down her cheek until she roughly wiped it away and stuffed the papers in her pocket. "Well, thanks for the help. I'm going home to get drunk again."

"Wait, there has to be some way we can sort this out," Leela said. She pulled the papers from her counterpart's pocket, ignoring her protesting squeak, and held them up to the light. "These were in perfect order, I don't know why they would have denied them."

"I don't particularly care. Can I go now?"

Leela shook her head but her companion was already pushing her way out of the door. She sighed, grabbed Fry's arm and followed her out.

There was a surprise waiting for them as a familiar voice spoke. "Leela, isn't it?"

"Wha..."

Leela halted just past the threshold of the door and looked around, trying to gather her bearings. She peeped past the edge of the door and saw her alternate self a short distance away, staring down the street at a copy of Fry, though this Fry was relatively smartly dressed in a button-down suit and sporting a Bureaucrat badge on his lapel. Of course his shirt was hanging loose and he was still wearing sneakers but the effect, Leela had to admit, was quite impressive. She gave her own Fry a sideways glance and then returned her attention to the other one.

"Where..." her doppelgänger's voice shuddered as she stared at Fry. "Where were you?"

"What? I... _well,_ when I lost you I eventually realised I'd need to get work somewhere. Professor Farnsworth didn't want to take me in so I decided to go back to the Cryogenics lab."

"But..."

"They ran the tests again and, well, here I am." He smiled at Blue and held out his hands over his suit, but then his smile faltered as he regarded the woman. She had her hands over her mouth. "Are you okay?"

"Where were you!" Blue took a step toward the new Fry, her fists raised, her face flushed with anger and pain as she glared at him. He backed up a step, eyes wide with fear even in the bright sunlight streaming down between the buildings. "You bastard, you weren't there when I... you let... WHERE WERE YOU?"

_Oh brother_, Leela thought. She touched Fry's chest, indicating he should stay where he was and then stepped out on to the street.

"That's enough."

The alternate Fry stared at one Leela and then the other in confusion. Leela could see the fearful question in his eyes as he considered the possibility of suddenly being beaten up not once, but twice, and so she held out a placating hand.

"Fry, this isn't how it looks. I'm not even sure how it looks actually, but..."

Fry's double seemed to finally gain control of his jaw, which snapped shut, though his eyes were still wide. He looked at Leela again.

"Twins?"

"Not as such," Leela said. She turned away from him and took hold of her counterpart's arms again, ready to wrestle her back in case she did something stupid, but Blue's fight was already gone. Her unseeing eye stared off into the distance and her skin, far from the ruddy flush it had shown moments earlier, had taken on a deathly-looking pallor. Leela snapped her fingers in front of her eye a few times. "Great. She's in shock or something, we need to get her somewhere quiet."

"We can use my office," Fry's counterpart said, pointing up at the second floor of the building. Leela blinked in surprise and looked up at the bank of panoramic windows that wrapped its way around the second floor.

"_You_have an office?"

"Oh, sure. It's right this way, I'll just sort it out with security. And call me Phil," he added as he rounded the corner.

"Fry, wait!" She let go of her alterself and turned to stop him but he'd already rounded the doorway. There was a beat as Leela considered what might be happening, whether she should go and find out, and then_Phil_ returned, pale-faced and clutching his lunch bag to his chest. He looked at Leela, and it seemed as if he was exercising a considerable amount of self-control as he spoke again.

"Why am I standing in the doorway?" His voice shook a little as he spoke.

"Well, you see..." Leela looked skyward, trying to think of a way to explain their problem. Was there time? "We're from another universe," she finished lamely. Well, there was nothing like the truth in times of trouble.

"Oh... like Star T-"

"I wouldn't say that if I were you..."

"Oh, yeah." Phil shrugged and turned to watch himself walk out from the door. He frowned at the sight; Fry frowned back at him, unconsciously mirroring his counterpart's actions. "Does my hair really look that geeky?"

"Geeky?" Fry frown grew even deeper and he pinched at his counterpart's clothes. "I'm not the one with the dorky suit," he muttered.

"I'm not the one who evidently wears the same scruffy pants every day of my life!"

Fry put up his fists and started bouncing from one foot to the other in a pathetic parody of a boxer's hop. "I'll show you who's scruffy you stuck-up-"

"That's enough!" Leela grabbed both Frys by the hair and pinned them up against the wall.

"Now, I don't care what you two think of each other. She..." Leela looked over at her counterpart, still stood in the middle of the sidewalk, only now she had her left hand clamped around her right wrist and her arm seemed to be shaking. "_I_ need help, apparently, so both of _you _had better knock if off before both of _me _do something stupid."

Both men slipped down the wall on to their rear ends when Leela let go. Fry rubbed his head and stared up at Leela with a hurt expression; Phil just stared at the ground for a moment, then turned to look at Fry, curiosity tempered by worry in his eyes.

"Maybe we should take the back door," he said slowly as they stood up, regarding each other from a short distance apart. "It would seem odd to have two of me walking in together."

"Just pretend they're all drunk," Fry said, before demonstrating what he meant by stumbling around the sidewalk. He laughed to himself, a sound that faded away when he noticed his alternate wasn't laughing with him. "Jeez, did they ram a rod up your ass when you got that badge or something?"

"That was meant to be funny?" Phil rolled his eyes and motioned toward the corner of building. "Come on, we can get the elevator from the parking lot straight to my floor, that way only my secretary will see us."

Leela stopped in her tracks. "You have a _secretary_?"

--

The elevator opened on to a brightly lit corridor, facing a blank, pale grey wall that seemed perfectly smooth until you got up close enough to see the faint stucco of a badly applied spray paint. Phil leaned out and peered up and down the corridor, then stepped out, and hastily tucked in his shirt. "Come on, this way."

They followed him out, Fry and Leela supporting Blue under each arm. Her head lolled against her chest but she seemed to be paying at least_some_ attention to where they were; every now and then she'd open her eye and look around, though most of the time she just fixed a gaze on Fry. It didn't seem to matter which, the dark look of betrayal was always the same. Fry had tried returning her stare a few times but the gaze was so steady, and so _empty_, that eventually he gave up trying.

If the streets were deserted, the interior of the building felt emptier still. Fry glanced up and down the corridor a few times as they followed Phil, certain he could feel eyes burrowing into the back of his head every time he looked away, but when he glanced behind him there was just more empty corridor. Not even a security camera – though he was sure they could hide cameras in just about anything these days.

Phil halted at a door just before what seemed to be the corner of the building. He leaned over the door and tapped a code into a keypad at the side.

"Here we go, make yourselves at home," he said as he pushed the door open and disappeared inside.

The office was spectacular, with windows along two walls of the office, though the far window was partly hidden by a partition that separated what was evidently a waiting area and the secretary's desk from Phil's own private office. Fry's nostrils flared slightly as the scent of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the air just as Phil turned back from a small pot that was perking by the secretary's desk and held up a mug.

"Latte?"

"This is incredible," Leela said. She helped Blue down to a couch by the window and then turned to look out at the city. After a moment she turned back and took the coffee from Phil's hand, then offered it to her counterpart. Blue, her eye fixed on a spot just beyond the coffee table, pushed the drink away.

"Granted, the view isn't _that_ spectacular... how on earth did you get an office like this?"

"Well I was going to explain that to you, um... _her_..." Phil's voice faded away as he regarded the two Leela's. He didn't look confused, though, which Leela found interesting. More puzzled. "When they re-ran the aptitude tests the computer came up with a different occupation for me. I'm a flying instructor attached to the central bureaucracy, or I was for a while, until I got promoted. Now I just stamp things."

Phil picked up a rubber stamp from his secretary's desk and held it up to his face with a dismissive air. "It pays well, but I'd rather be flying again."

"I'm having trouble with this idea that you could actually fly _anything_," Leela said with a dubious glance toward Fry. He was standing by the window, staring up at what few clouds had stuck around since last-night's rain, completely oblivious to the conversation.

"The computers said I had a natural aptitude for it. I guess all that time on Falcon Four did it."

"You played those lame flight simulators?" Fry turned from the window with a dismissive sneer. "No wonder you're a dork!"

Phil blinked at the insult and raised his eyebrows but, again, he refused to be drawn. He turned to the secretary's desk and leafed through a few pieces of paper.

"So, tell me, what were you in here for?"

Leela put down the coffee – it smelled good, but she wasn't really interested.

"We're trying to get my, _her_, space captain's license back. The clerk downstairs denied it," she added. Leela leaned down and plucked the papers from Blue's pocket. Blue made a half-hearted grab for the papers but was just a little too slow for Leela, who held them out of reach until she could hand them to Phil.

"Well I can't see why she would do that," he said, pausing on the second page. "I mean apart from the obvious depth perception problem there's nothing here that would count against you. I've licensed one-eyed pilots with far worse records than this."

Blue looked up. "You have?"

"Sure, there was this one guy... wait a moment." Phil stood up, placed the papers on the desk and smoothed them out, then pressed an intercom button. "Sandra, are you in there digging through my files again?"

The voice that replied sounded very blonde. "_Uh... I don't know, am I?_"

"Sure you are," Phil said with a small grin. He winked at Leela and let go of the button for a second.

"I told here there's an incomplete section twenty six in there somewhere, she's spent the last month trying to find it" he said with a chuckle. Leela figured it must be some sort of bureaucrat joke. "Sandra, can you find an eleven sixty-two stroke B and a fifteen dash Z requisition please?"

"_Right on it..._" Phil leaned back on the desk. A moment later his office door opened and a – yes, blonde, Leela thought with a sigh – woman in a pink dress and hair tied up in a severe bun walked out holding a small folder in her hands. She stopped when she saw Leela and stared right at her.

"Don't say eye," Leela said, bunching her fists before she could stop herself. Sandra blinked and smiled.

"I wasn't thinking it. Oops!" She put the top of the folder over her mouth and giggled nervously. "Sorry, I'm all over the place today. You..." Sandra's voice trailed off as she turned and spotted Blue. And then Fry. She blinked again a few times and placed the folder on the desk as she turned, very deliberately, away from the scene. "You want me to cancel your afternoon appointments, Mr Fry?"

Phil, eyes now fixed on Blue, nodded slowly. "Sure. Oh, and can you go and find out who denied this application downstairs please?"

"Right away, Mr Fry," Sandra said, taking the note Phil handed her before wiggling out of the office. She paused at the door, looked back at the strange group and, for a moment, her brow twisted up in confusion, then she was gone. Phil got up from the desk, wandered into his office and closed the door behind him, leaving the three alone in the reception area.

"I can't believe that jerk." Fry slumped down on a convenient chair with a loud sigh. He picked up a magazine and thumbed through it aimlessly, then tossed it back on the table. "How come he gets all this great stuff and all I get is a stupid delivery job?"

"_I heard that,_" Phil said over the intercom. Leela turned to Fry and mouthed a silent reprimand at him, but Fry just buried himself in another magazine and ignored her. Phil opened his door again and wiggled a finger at her. "Can you all come in here please?"

Phil retreated back to his office again. Leela and Fry looked at each other and shrugged, then turned to follow until Leela realised her counterpart was still sat down. She turned around and looked at herself. Blue hadn't moved an inch from the place she'd sat down, not even to look at the magazines. She was staring at the table, her face slack and blank.

"Hey, come on, this is your job, not mine. You should be dealing with it."

"I can barely deal with being sober."

Blue flopped over on her side and let out a plaintive sigh. Leela waved Fry into the office and walked back over to Blue, who groaned as Leela dragged her upright again but didn't resist.

"You're embarrassing yourself," Leela said. She hooked an arm under Blue's shoulder and lifted her to her feet.

"Why can't you just leave me be?"

"Because I want to go home, and getting you your job back is apparently the only way I can do that." _Even if you are possibly insane_, she didn't add.

Leela tugged at her counterpart again and, by degrees, managed to lurch her into Phil's office, where she dumped Blue on the chair in front of Phil's desk and then went to lean against the wall, panting slightly from the exertion of dragging herself across the room. _I need to lose some weight_.

Phil smiled at them both from behind his desk. In the far corner, Fry stared at his counterpart with barely disguised contempt, but Phil seemed quite determined to ignore him as he tapped away at his screen. For a while the sound of his industrious typing was the only thing that broke the silence in the well apportioned office until he looked up at Blue with a sour expression.

"All right, I've found out why you were denied. Someone's put a permanent block on your license."

"What?"

"Who would do such a thing?" Leela walked over to her counterpart's chair and put her hand on the back, just far enough forward that her fingers brushed against Blue's shoulder. She looked up at Leela, resignation clouding her eye, and then down at her hands that rested limp on her knees.

"I know who..." she turned to look at Phil, suddenly very earnest. "Can you do anything about it?"

"I'll have a look," he said as he tapped at the screen again. A warning popped up though, oddly, Phil smiled at the sight.

"Looks like I can help you after all. There's supposed to be an accompanying request for confirmation on a block like this but there wasn't one recorded, which means that the block isn't actually permanent. I'll just remove the block and you can have your license back."

"When?" Blue leaned toward Phil with an almost hungry look on her face.

Phil leaned back from her sudden eagerness. He laughed nervously. "Right about now," he said, as a slot opened up in his desk. A message tube rose up and then ejected a message capsule into Phil's waiting hands. Phil opened up the capsule and pulled out a sheet of paper. "Voyla."

"It's 'voilà'," Fry muttered. He pointed at Phil. "Yeah, I can speak French better than you do, how do you like them bananas!"

"I earn forty thousand dollars a year," Phil said without looking around. Fry's shoulders sagged in defeat. He slumped back against the panelled wall and grumbled under his breath. Phil flattened out the papers on his desk before holding a stubby pen toward Blue.

"You just need to sign here and here. And here. Initial here here and here, nose-print there," he added, holding out an ink pad while Blue rattled off a string of signatures. Leela and Fry looked at each other, a strange understanding passing between them as Phil rattled off a list of extra places to sign or mark. She walked over to stand by Fry while they watched.

"It's like he's Hermes."

"Only more handsome?" Fry finished. He held up both thumbs toward himself and grinned. "You know that's what you were gonna say, Leela."

"No, actually, I wasn't going to say anything," Leela retorted. She folded her arms and looked away for a moment, but couldn't help her view dragging back to the sight of Phil's industriously bureaucratic rambling. Her eye narrowed. "He might be rich and better dressed, but..."

The unfinished sentence hung in the air between them. Fry, in a moment of unusual clarity, realised he probably shouldn't say anything to Leela right at that moment, so he clenched his jaw and watched his mirror-self shuffling paper instead. He could feel something wiggling inside his gut at the thought of what she _might_ have said but, after so many disappointments from that quarter, he didn't know if it was worth the trouble to find out.

One final stamp and a smiling Phil handed over a completed pilot's license to Blue.

"All done. I'll just-"

He was interrupted by the buzzing intercom. Phil rolled his eyes and reached out to press the flashing line button. "Yes?"

"_There's a Miss Proctor on the phone for you, Mr Fry. She said it was urgent._"

"Oh, Morgan... put her through." Phil looked up at Blue again and his smile faltered. She was staring at him, her brow wrinkled and her expression frozen in shock. "Are you all right?"

"You... you know... _her?_"

"Morgan? Sure, I... hang on," he added as the phone on his desk rang. Phil picked it up and settled it to his ear. "Hi honey, how's things? What?"

Phil turned away from the desk and looked out of the window. Every ear in the room strained to hear the other half of his conversation but he had the phone pressed to close to his ear. "Right. I'll... you_what_?"

_Honey?_ Leela mouthed at Fry. He shrugged and shook his head as if to say don't go there. They both looked down at Blue again to see how she was reacting, though Fry probably knew better than Leela herself; he could easily recognise the sort of closed look Leela had when she was about to chew him out for something, but _this_ Leela's lack of confidence seemed to have betrayed her now, to the point where she seemed unable to work up the courage to say anything. He was almost thankful, even if it was a loser version of himself that would have got the dressing-down. Leela in a bad mood was not a sight he liked to see.

"All right, I'll look into it. Yeah. I love y- right. I... right. See you later." Phil turned back to his desk and put the phone down, then he carefully rested his hands on the sheer ebon surface and rattled his fingers a few times. He fixed a thoughtful look on Blue and tipped his head to one side as he considered his options. "That was... educational. Does someone want to tell me what's going on?"

"You know Morgan Proctor," Blue said. It wasn't a question, in fact it sounded more like an accusation than anything else. She gathered up her papers and pushed the chair back. "Thank you for your time, Mr Fry, but I think I'll be leaving now."

"Wait..." Phil stood up and put his hand on the papers. He looked into Blue's eye, his own eyes wide with... something. Longing? Whatever it was seemed to give Blue pause to think, as she slowly sat down again. Phil smiled a little sadly at her. "Morgan... _Miss Proctor_... just told me she was the one who placed the block on your file."

"I knew it! That bitch-"

"Is my wife," Phil finished coldly. He glanced over at Fry. "I guess you never met her in your universe?"

"Oh, we did," Fry said quietly, shaking his head at the memory. The idea of _marrying_ that woman was more than a little scary. Then again what could you expect from someone who played flight simulators?

"So you two are married..." Leela said, just as quietly.

"And she had me fired," Blue added with some feeling. She brandished the papers at Phil like a shield. "She always had it in for me, ever since she came in to replace Hermes. So I had a few crashes that week. Everyone crashes their ship now and then, they're practically built to be crashed! And then she refuses to give me compassionate leave to bury my own damned parents, and these people say you were supposed to be there to stop me killing them!"

Blue leaned over the desk, grabbed Phil by his lapels and dragged him across stacks of paper and stationery, knocking them all over the floor. "You're in it together aren't you! You and her, you made me crazy so you could, could have... have _something_, I don't know what it is but you... you..."

Phil struggled against Blue's grip. "I didn't even know she was working there!"

As fast as she'd grabbed hold of him, Blue let go again. Phil fell on to the desk with a loud thump. Blue slumped back into her chair, completely spent, and heaved out a gut-wrenching sob that had Fry and Leela by her side in an instant. They looked at each other across her head; Fry shrugged and backed off again to lean on the wall, leaving Leela alone to deal with the problem. Phil joined him a moment later, surprisingly unperturbed by the whole ordeal, though he looked at Fry with renewed interest.

"You spend a lot of time with this woman?"

Fry nodded. "Yeah." He looked at his alter-ego, took in the suit and the still-ruffled shirt, then turned to look around the office before letting his gaze rest back on Leela again. "This is one screwed up world."

"Tell me about it," Phil said quietly. He held up his hand. There was a ring on his finger, and when he saw it Fry felt a pang of jealousy. Every single version of himself he'd met so far – all two of them – had been married. Happy. It wasn't fair!

Phil let his hand drop again. "I don't think Morgan would..."

His voice trailed off and they looked at each other. Of course she would, they both thought at the same time.

"In my world she tried to have Bender's mind erased so she wouldn't get demoted."

"Bender?"

"A robot. He's my friend," Fry said. He was looking at Leela again, unable to take his eyes off her in case she disappeared or something. He managed a quick glance at Phil.

"I always wanted a robot for a friend," Phil said. Even Fry could hear the sadness in his voice. He patted his alter-self's shoulder and tried to smile as Phil continued speaking. "Morgan said it was a stupid idea. She thinks all robots should have their personalities removed because it makes them inefficient."

"Did you ever disagree with her?"

"You don't disagree with Morgan." Phil's reply was accompanied by a smile that withered almost as soon as it appeared. He looked around his office and when he spoke again there was a bitterness in his voice that hadn't been there before. "She's my wife. I'm supposed to love her and sometimes... sometimes I see that woman I fell in love with. Mostly all I see is... she didn't even take my name, said it was a waste of resources to change all the paperwork. Can you believe that?"

Fry nodded. He definitely could believe that of Morgan. There had been flashes of a woman who might have been fun to know but a lifetime of bureaucracy had wrapped her up in an impenetrable shell of red tape and efficient bluster. With everything he'd learned, it was getting hard to be angry at this rich and successful version of himself. Well, maybe he could be a bit angry; the guy did have such a nice office. Probably had a nice house in the suburbs too. _And_ a car.

He turned, ready to let forth with another jibe to needle at the nerd but he was already gone, kneeling beside Blue, holding her hand and patting it gently while Leela looked on from a short distance.

"I'll try and help you. You need to have your flying skills assessed by a flight instructor before you can officially fly again," Phil was saying. He picked up Blue's papers and handed them to her as he stood up. "Morgan can be prickly but I'm sure I can reason with her over this. She can't place a block on your file without a very good reason, and once I've assessed you she won't have it."

Blue took the papers and looked into Phil's eyes. "You... you'd do that? For me?"

"Sure! It'll get me out of the office for a couple of days. Besides..." he sat on his desk and regarded Blue for a moment before going on. "If these two are anything to go by we could have been good friends and I guess I sort of owe you for how things have turned out."

He winked at Fry again and then smiled at Leela before standing up. Fry was starting to find that wink annoying. Phil made his way back around the desk and poked his intercom again. "Sandra, I'm going out for a couple of days, take care of the paperwork for me will you?"

"_Right on it, Mr Fry_," Sandra replied. Phil picked up an attaché case was in the process of loading it when the intercom buzzed again. He poked

"Yes?"

"_Should I be duplicating all your paperwork now, sir?_"

"No... why would you do that?"

"_Oh. No reason._" The intercom clicked off. Phil stared at it for a moment, then looked up at Fry, his brow furrowed in something like confusion. He finished packing his case and snapped the lid shut before looking at the assembled group again.

"Right. I'll just swing by my place to pack some things and then meet you... where?"

"Planet Express," Blue said. She stood up. "It's where your _wife_ keeps _my_ ship."

Phil smiled again, though more nervously this time. He held up a placating hand. "I'll talk to her. Just meet me outside the building in an hour."


	4. Secrets

It was raining again. It wasn't particularly hard rain, or even particularly cold, but it was persistent, the fine sort of drizzle that would seep in between the fibres of your clothing without you noticing until you realised you were soaking wet. It was depressing rain, little more than a fast-moving mist that drifted on the wind so that no shelter could protect you from it.

Not that this stopped Fry and Leela from trying to shelter. They stood and shivered under the minimal protection offered by a few trees near the Planet Express building. Blue was stood a little distance ahead of them, hands bunched into fists as she stared up at the domed roof of the building's main tower.

"Where's he got to," Leela muttered to herself. She glanced over at her own Fry. "He'd better get here soon or she might do something I'll regret..."

"Maybe he's..." Fry never got to finish his speculation. A large, blue-grey car drew to a halt a short distance away and lowered itself gently to the ground. Phil stepped out, clad in a smart suit – complete with shined shoes, Leela noticed – and a long trenchcoat. He turned to the car and pulled a travel-bag from it, which he slung over his shoulder as he set off toward the building.

Leela tugged at her own coat and grabbed Fry. "Come on."

They caught up with Phil just short of the main entrance. He had stopped, and was staring up at the building with a curious expression when they approached. "I haven't been here for years," he said quietly. Phil looked at Leela and smiled. "Funny how things work out isn't it? I wonder if the Professor is still-"

"He's as good as dead right now." Blue unfolded her papers and marched up to the main entrance. She paused on the step and turned to look at Phil. "You gonna help me or not?"

"What do you mean good as dead?" Phil tumbled up the steps and stood in the lee of the door, trying to shelter from the rain that was starting to grow a little heavier now. "He might have been a bit old, but-"

"Doesn't matter what he was. Your 'Miss Proctor' had him shipped off to the death satellite the minute she found out he was due to retire."

"Well... it _is_ the law," Phil said with little conviction. He looked up at the building again and sighed at the rain falling on his upturned face, then set his jaw and stepped toward the door. "Better get this over with."

"We'd better hide," Leela said. She dragged Fry up to the wall, out of direct sight. The door opened almost as soon as Phil pressed the bell and Morgan Proctor herself stepped out, flanked by a pair of guards.

"Hi Morgan."

"Philip." Proctor inclined her head toward him. "I can see you are determined to go through this this charade. I had hoped our conversation this morning would dissuade you."

Phil shrugged and looked at the guards with a thoughtful expression. "I figure she needed a break."

"She needs to be sectioned," Proctor said. She looked Philip in the eyes and raised her eyebrow. "You realise that when I took over the management of this office I had to deal with the sort of gross inefficiencies that you used to suffer from, Philip. They were incompetents, lead by an incompetent, and transported by an incompetent. Repair bills for the ship alone were higher than your entire departmental budget. The company had to be remade without their influence."

"Maybe I liked my inefficiencies," Phil replied, his voice strangely quiet. He looked into Morgan's eyes and smiled. "I love you, Morgan, but this is wrong and you know it."

"I did what needed to be done."

"You lied, Morgan. On paper. They can demote you for that."

"You have no proof of that," Proctor replied, eyebrow arched and hands on hips. She looked to the guards on either side of her. "She may have her license but she is not setting foot inside this building. Good day to you, Mr Fry."

Morgan turned away and walked back through the door, leaving the two guards outside. Phil stepped forward. One of the guards put his hand on his pistol whilst the other put _his_ hand on Phil's chest.

"Morgan?" Phil's voice echoed through the Planet Express lobby and, for a moment, Proctor's walk stuttered. She paused and turned, almost looking over her shoulder at him, but then she straightened her back and continued walking. The door slid shut a moment later.

"I'm sorry, sir, but you'll have to leave," the guard said, putting a moment of pressure on Phil's chest. He bowed his head and backed away down the steps until Blue grabbed his arm and pulled him to one side.

"What-"

"You're giving up!"

Phil shrugged. He looked up at the building again. The guards, satisfied their job was complete, retreated into the shelter of the lobby, closing the door behind them.

"We aren't going to be able to get in there," he replied, his expression grim. Blue's eye widened as her face flushed with anger. "But I can still assess you," Phil quickly added.

"How can we do that without my ship?"

Phil smiled and put his hand over Blue's even as she kept it wrapped around his arm. "We can use one of the training ships. It won't be quite what you're used to but it's close enough. Now, would you mind letting go? My hand's going numb."

Blue narrowed her eye at him, then looked down at her hand, still gripping Phil's arm tightly. She snapped her fingers apart. "Sorry..."

"No problem," Phil said, who rubbed his arm to try and get the circulation going again, then looked around until he spotted Fry and Leela. He waved them over. "What about you two?"

"We need to get into the building," Leela said. Phil glanced past her toward Planet Express. "Our way home is in there."

"Not much chance of that now."

"Then we'll follow you if it's all the same," Leela replied. She looked over at Phil's car, resting near the trees they'd sheltered under and then glanced back at Phil and Fry. "If she can go somewhere, I can go there too and that means that we need to be around when you get her license back."

"After you then," he said with a gesture toward his car. Leela took the lead, walking toward the car with a purpose she didn't actually feel, Fry slumping along behind her like some sort of dejected blobthing. Truth be told this world was starting to get on her nerves. They'd been here a day and a half already, if they didn't get home soon Hermes might actually fire her, which wasn't a particularly entertaining prospect.

She paused by the car and waited for Blue and Phil to climb inside, then turned to Fry.

"We'll be home soon," she said, putting on a cheery expression.

"Good. This place is starting to give me the creeps. It feels like there's someone watching me all the time."

"That's just your imagination, Fry. Get in the car."

"Sure..."

Leela slipped into the back seat of the car and shuffled along behind her alter-self, strapped into the front passenger seat alongside Phil. It felt strange to see her relationship with Fry from the outside, no matter how attenuated and fresh it might be in this world. There were little things they did, little ways of looking and talking that seemed very familiar, and she recognised Blue's insecurities as more visible examples of her own. Phil's mere presence seemed to be calming them.

She glanced out at Fry who had, for reasons of his own, decided to remain stood in the spitting rain. "Come on Fry!"

"Yeah, yeah, sorry," Fry said as he clambered in beside Leela. He pulled the door closed and stared out of the slightly misted window at the damp plaza in front of the PE Building. "This place..." his eyes narrowed and he leaned forward, pressing both hands up against the glass. His voice was barely a whisper when he spoke. "Oh no, she's there! Do you see her?"

"Who? Where?"

"Right there," Fry hissed as he stabbed at the glass with his finger. Leela leaned forward to peer at the spot he indicated, a blind doorway across the street from the PE building, but there was nothing in it. Just a black hole. "At least, she was a moment ago..."

"Fry, we've been over this." Leela put her hand on Fry's shoulder and pulled him back to his seat. "It's just your imagination."

Fry stared at her for a moment that was just a little too long to be comfortable, then looked away again with a loud sigh. The hurt in his eyes had been obvious which meant_ he_ believed it. Leela was about to say something more when Phil, up front, cleared his throat.

"Ready to leave yet?"

"You're the one driving," Leela shot back, too harsh and bitter, but she didn't care. She just wanted to go home, and Fry's constant warbling about that insane version of herself wasn't helping matters. The mere knowledge of her madness had rattled Leela more than she cared to admit; worse, she'd seen a hint of it in the eye_of _this universe's Leela, which made her wonder just how close she was riding to the edge of that pit herself.

Phil shrugged and looked at Blue; he smiled briefly at her, then turned to start the car.

"This never gets old," he said as the car lifted into the air, and then they were away. Phil let out a loud, exuberant _'whoop'_ as the car rocketed skyward. The sudden acceleration pressed Leela back into her seat. She grabbed her seatbelt and buckled up as tight as she could manage. Just in case.

--

So. They were all together. Leela pushed a raven strand of hair from her eye and continued to watch the car as it pulled out of sight. She stepped back out of the shadows at the last moment and waved at the car's rear with an almost child-like ferocity, then abruptly turned away from it to examine the Planet Express building. It always came back to the building, the place that had driven her mad. Well no, that wasn't strictly true. The place it sat on top of had driven her mad, and _he..._

She killed that train of thought before it went any further and stepped out in the rain to give the building a closer look. The stark grey edifice stood silhouetted against the afternoon sky, still dim and wan, as if the atmosphere were thinner somehow. Even the clouds looked anaemic.

They had been talking to... Proctor, wasn't it? Morgan Proctor, the one Philip had been infatuated with for a while and who had been so very easy to dispatch the first time. But not this time. Not on this world. Leela needed her alive, at least until she had a chance to get to this world's Philip Fry. Her eye narrowed even as she smiled at the thought, and so Leela sauntered over to the building with a casual air, ignoring the rain that slithered down her back and matted her hair to her scalp.

The door was unguarded. Memory told her a single kick _there_, just an inch below the lock and three to the left, would be all it took to break it down but, again, that would be unnecessary. Leela stood in front of the door and just stared at it for a moment. Then she examined her pistol to make sure it was still in working order – as if it ever wouldn't be – and rang the bell.

"Planet Express," a voice said. Her voice. So familiar after all these years that Leela almost giggled at it. She cleared her throat and leaned toward the pick-up.

"Hi, I'm-"

"Miss Turanga, you have already been informed of your status regarding employment at this facility." Proctor spoke in the officious tone Leela had always hated in the brief time she'd known the woman. She smiled at the thought of having another crack at her, but later. Business first.

"I'd like to talk to you about something."

"There is nothing for us to discuss, Miss-"

"Morgan, Morgan, always so official..." Leela leaned back to peer up at the building. She was almost certain she knew which office Proctor worked in, the one the fat idiot used to use. "Morgan, do you still wear that bun in your hair?"

"You may refer to me as Ms Proctor. Now-" Leela interrupted Proctor's hectoring voice a second time by banging loudly on the pick-up with the butt of her pistol. "Miss Turanga this is hardly-"

"Can it, Proctor. I know you want rid of _me_, well there's things I want too." She waited, and for a moment wondered if she'd been too harsh. Not that it mattered, there were other ways to sort out this particular problem, although this one would be more fun. "Remember those boxes in your store-room by the hangar?"

"The Paraboxes," Proctor replied, her voice carefully neutral. Leela nodded, and then grunted an affirmative when she remembered Proctor couldn't see her. "They allow travel to parallel universes. I am... uncomfortable with this concept."

"Well get comfortable with it because I came out of one of them. I can offer you a way to deal with your Leela, but I want something in return."

"What are you proposing?"

_Gotcha._Leela smiled. People were so easy to manipulate.

"On my world I know you hated me for having Fry. Every world I've been on has been the same deal in some way. I get Fry, you get shafted." She paused for a moment, wondering if Morgan was still listening. Of course she was; she could already imagine the wild and terrifying ideas bubbling around in Proctor's robotic little mind.

"He's with her right now, you know. Working her charms. I'm a very charming lady when I want to be."

"I don't see the relevance of this discussion, Miss Turanga. My grievances with... 'you'... are of a purely professional nature."

"Sure, you think she's nuts. You're the one that had me committed back home, though that was more revenge for the fact that Fry dumped you over me."

"She... was a danger to the safe operation of this company," Morgan replied, just a hint of anger colouring her voice. "They all were."

"Yes, but it seems that your boy is helping her get her job back, but I can fix that. She has a secret, a big one, something that'll let you put her away from you and Fry for the rest of your natural lives. I can tell you what it is, but you have to promise you'll let me go home."

She waited again. A gust of wind flew up from the river and caught at her jacket, momentarily piercing even her tolerance for the cold, but she didn't shiver. She never let on. Ever. Leela was just about to give up when the door emitted a loud buzz and slid open.

"Meet me in the conference room." Proctor's voice echoed from the intercom behind Leela, already deep inside the lobby. "I assume you know where it is."

"Oh yes, I sure do," Leela muttered to herself. She was in. All she needed now was time, and then they'd all be dealt with. She began to laugh as she made her way through the unfamiliar familiarity of the Planet Express building.

--

Dulles Interstellar space-port was far larger than most passengers, who spent most of their time in the passenger terminals, realised. It was vast, covering approximately fifty square miles with most of that space taken up by private carrier pads, cargo terminals and hangars, blast shields, waste-water run-off and simple empty space. Very little was actually devoted to passenger transport.

It was to one of the smaller non-commercial pads that Phil drove them, a slab of cracked and stained concrete and paving next to a pair of hangars apparently in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by ill-looking grass and weeds and thick, shallow-sloped concrete walls. A small building between the hangars served as an office, and there were several courier-type ships of various designs sat about the pad, or peeping from beneath the hangars. In the distance the needle-thin passenger terminal towers thread long, delicate silhouettes across the sky and punctured the thin gauze of cloud that presaged another bout of rain.

Leela could hear the distant roar of a ship lifting off as she exited the car but it was almost too far away to actually see anything more than a slender column of steamy smoke near the horizon. She watched it for a second, a vague curiosity about its destination flitting through her mind, and then turned her back on it.

"You two will have to wait around here," Phil said, before he helped Blue from the car. He turned to look at Leela and Fry and gave them a cheery smile. "We'll just be running through the minimum necessary to get her licensed again so we'll only be gone a couple of hours at the very most. Then it'll be back to Planet Express to see about her job."

"We all appreciate it," Leela said. Blue nodded, and then even smiled a little. She seemed to be enjoying the fresh air and the distant tang of ozone and rocket fuel. Perhaps it was making her feel more at home again. She turned to Fry and gave him a quick shove toward the office. "Come on, let's see if they've got a TV around here."

"TV would be good. I hope it's the same here as it is at home, I'm missing _All My Circuits_."

"I'm sure..." Leela paused and looked back at their alter-selves as they wandered over to a squat and rather ugly looking training ship. "That thing looks like it'll barely rate point eight past old light-speed, what use is that?"

"Who cares," Fry muttered as he kicked at a loose spray of gravel on the tarmac. They continued toward the office in silence.

Leela knew something was wrong the moment they entered the building. A harried clerk looked up at them, eyes wild as his computer flickered a multitude of warnings at him.

"Are you them? Did you-"

His voice was cut off by the sound of the courier ship's engine winding up. The clerk yelled something incoherent and vaulted over his desk, pushing past Leela and Fry in his desperation to get out of the building.

"No! Stop!"

The clerk flew across the pad toward the ship. Leela grunted and ran after him, managing to catch the man just shy of the ship's backwash. She tackled him to the floor.

"Get off me you-"

"Shut up!" Leela pressed the man down and dropped to the floor as a wave of heat blasted over them from the ship's engine. When she looked up again the ship was already retreating rapidly toward the distant sky. The clerk screamed, venting his frustration and anger as he pounded the ground with both his fists.

"You stupid, stupid woman! You just landed us all in a whole heap of trouble!"

"Yeah, well I just saved your life!" Leela sat up and let the man crawled to his knees. He continued muttering under his breath in a foreign language and gesticulating at the sky. "What are you talking about?"

The clerk looked at her as if he only just noticed Leela's existence. He frowned. "They're flying without a license!"

"Oh, I know that. She's up there to get assessed."

"No, you moronic-" was all the clerk managed to say before Fry clobbered him over the back of the head with a folded chair. The clerk crumpled to the floor with a sigh.

"That was easier than I thought it'd be," Fry muttered as he dropped the chair and leaned over Leela. He held out his hand. "Are you okay?"

"I'm_fine_, Fry, but couldn't you have waited until he'd explained what was going on before you hit him?" She looked down at the clerk and then up at Fry's face. She put out her hand. Fry shrugged as he pulled her upright, strangely blasé about the whole thing.

"I didn't like the way he was talking to you."

"That's... sweet, Fry. Real sweet..." Leela leaned over the clerk to check his pulse and tried not to think about Fry's sudden transformation into Angry Man. If this was going to be a regular thing he'd need watching _very_ closely. The clerk's pulse was there, strong and regular, and he didn't seem to be bleeding which was probably a good sign. "Well, fortunately you didn't kill him. We'd better get him back inside and wake him up."

"Why?"

"For one thing, we can't leave him out here," Leela said. She hooked her hands under the clerk's armpits and heaved him up and then over her shoulder. The clerk groaned and mumbled something that Leela instinctively knew was a swear-word, which meant he was probably going to be all right.

"And on top of that I think he was about to tell me something important."

"Oh. Right." Fry picked up the fallen chair and followed Leela back to the office again. Another ship was taking off in the near-distance, a heavy freighter of some description climbing skyward atop a column of flame and bright-white smoke. Fry paused to watch the ship until it was almost out of sight and, for a moment, felt a stab of jealousy at the life his counterpart must have here. Then again, he did play flight-sims. Sometimes the price of happiness could be too high, Fry thought, shaking his head as he he entered the office and shut the door, blocking out the faded roar of the freighter.

"What did he want?"

"I'm not sure," Leela replied. She had the man propped up on a chair and was gently slapping his face, but he seemed completely unresponsive. Leela sighed and gave up, she looked around the office for a moment or two. "There has to be some sort of medical kit around here somewhere, go make yourself useful and find it. I'll take a look on his computer to see what the problem was."

Fry grunted and started to look around the office. It was minimally furnished and a rather nasty shade of yellow, the walls lined with shelves of books and computerised clipboards. There weren't any obvious cupboards or storage cases, a fact he mentioned to Leela. She looked up from the screen and shrugged at him.

"Try that door," she said, pointing at the portal behind her. Fry wandered toward it but slowed at the last moment and turned to look at the screen Leela was reading. A bright red box caught his eye.

"Hey, isn't that a Section Fifteen?"

"A what?"

"Section... uh, Hermes had to remove one from my file after I got a little tiny bit drunk with Bender one time," Fry said. He leaned over the screen and peered at the notice. "Yeah."

"What the heck is a section fifteen?"

"Sanity clause," Fry replied. He tapped the screen on the red box. The picture expanded up to show a long, densely typed description that Leela quickly scanned through, not caring to ask Fry for more information.

"There ain't no sanity clause here," she said after a moment as scrolled the document down a few pages and then stopped. "Oh wait, here it is. Oh."

"What?"

"They've cancelled her license again. There's no way around it this time."

Fry looked around the office, eyes wide with fear, as if he was worried someone was watching. "Morgan?"

"Yes." Leela brought up a new set of dialogues and read through them as fast as she could manage. Sometimes she wondered if reading would be faster with two eyes. "This isn't good. I'd better call them."

--

Freedom. It had been so long since the stars had been anything but a roof overhead, a barrier even, a reminder of what she had done. Her parents never saw the stars and after she'd... afterwards... they never would. She'd hidden away from them, from the memories they brought, the accusations the carried. She didn't deserve to see the stars. But now she saw them, up close, without the intervention of atmosphere and stone and metal to hide her away.

Her parents never saw the stars, but she would. They had wanted her to see them. Leela gripped the wheel of the ship and smiled a tight little smile as she thought about the future. Morgan Proctor wouldn't have her victory. She didn't need Proctor _or_ Planet Express, she'd find a new company, maybe start her own. For them.

"All right, that's enough orbital manoeuvring," Phil said, looking up from his clipboard. He was seated to Leela's left, in what would normally be the radio operator's position, his coat slung over the back of the chair and his feet up on the radio console. "Let's have a quick run out to the moon and then swing around the L-four and back down to Earth again, and then that should do it."

"That's it?"

Phil nodded. "Pretty much. Well, strictly speaking I should be taking you out to Mars and Jupiter, and then there would have to be a trip out to Proxima for the interstellar navigation stuff but this ship isn't really rated for long-distance travel so I'm fudging it a bit."

"Lying, you mean?" Leela turned to look at Phil. He smiled and winked at her.

"Back in the old days Mr Pannucci called it 'jewish accounting', but then he was a bit of a bastard by all accounts." Phil looked down at his clipboard and ticked off a few more boxes, then wrote something down. "You deserve a break, Leela. What Morgan did was wrong, there's no point me hiding from that."

"Even though she's..."

"My wife," Phil finished. He shook his head and looked out at the stars, his face pensive. "So, did you ever find out where you came from?"

Leela flinched at the sudden change of subject and almost said something stupid. Almost. She looked at Phil with a little consternation and wondered how she should answer. "I... I'm not really..."

"I mean, it's all right if you don't want to talk about it," Phil continued, almost ignoring Leela's stuttering attempt to answer. He flipped over the page on his clipboard and smiled again. "We all have our secrets."

Leela nodded and bit her lip. Maybe she would tell him later, if there was a later. "Initiating TLI burn."

The main engine thumped, a fraction of a second of thrust being all the ship needed to change its orbit. Earth slid past the window and disappeared behind them as the Moon grew in the forward ports.

Leela remembered her first trip out there with the company, her first ever official flight after 'forgetting' to return the pilot's career chip, when the sight of the Ship had spoken to her soul, the ever-present longing for freedom that she only now understood. She'd hated every moment of it, from the cheap food to the crowds to the people she'd had to work with. The delivery boy they'd hired had quit when they got back, after an accident on one of the rides nearly took off his arm. It had set a precedent, and they'd never kept one on the staff for more than a month after that.

But at least she'd been free.

The ship clicked at her, waiting for more input. When she looked at Phil she could see a dreamy look on his face. He was staring at the moon with rapt fascination, almost like a little boy, she thought.

"Hey, are you all right?"

"Huh? Oh, sure, just thinking about how I've flown past the moon hundreds of times but I've never been there before."

"It's nothing special," Leela replied, memories of the trip returning to her mind again, mixed with more sinister memories that she would probably never exorcise. "There's a theme park, a bunch of tourist crap and lots of rocks, and that's about it."

"Maybe it's nothing special for you, but back when I left there had only been a dozen people on the moon. I always wanted to go there and walk around, see where Neil Armstrong took his first step. Maybe play golf or something. I'd always imagined that there'd be giant hotels and cities up there now."

"Oh, there are hotels all right," Leela said, recalling the very brief look she'd had inside one. More tourist trash from Funcorp or whomever owned the place now. She turned from the view to the navigational computer and watched the plotted course past the moon. On schedule Leela flipped the ship over and fired the engines again, then had the computer calculate their new course around the moon's dark face.

"Nicely done," Phil said. He brought up the Navicomp display on another screen and spent a moment examining it. "Swish! Right through the L-four as well! Most people have to make at least one extra correction burn to get there."

Leela shrugged and let herself the luxury of another smile, a warmer smile, as she looked at Phil. He was entering another row of notes on to his clipboard. "All right, so what's your secret then?"

"My secret?" Phil looked up from his notes. He tapped his pen against his chin as he thought and then flicked it at the top of the clipboard with a wide grin. "My secret is that I just want to sit at home and play video games all day. Morgan doesn't even let me keep anything in the house, though, so I've got one set up at the office instead. She doesn't know about it," he added with a conspiratorial wink. Then he looked away and sighed again. "I bet that sounds pretty childish."

"Kinda," Leela replied. Phil's face seemed to fall just a little. She put her hand on his shoulder and smiled. "I think it's cute."

"Oh, well I..." Whatever he was about to say was cut off by the sound of the radio demanding their attention. Phil sighed and put his clipboard to one side, then sought the receiver controls. "Tango charlie six, go ahead."

"_Fry? I mean, Phil?_"

"Yeah... Leela? Other Leela?" Phil glanced at Leela and shook his head in confusion. "Whatever. How can I help?"

"_You need to get back down here,_" the visiting Leela said, her voice distorting slightly as the ship moved in toward the moon's far side. "_Leela... My... look, the license was cancelled again._"

"Morgan..."

"_Right. I'm sorry, Phil._"

Phil punched the console and growled something obscene under his breath. He turned to look at Leela. She could see something in his eyes that scared her, and yet drew her with its familiarity.

"I'm sorry too," he said, his voice strangely quiet. He turned back to the console. "Okay, we'll be back in about fifteen minutes. Don't go anywhere."

Leela looked up at her consoles, already mentally calculating the manoeuvres she would have to make to get back to earth in that time, fine-honed instincts taking her through a complicated set of plane changes and thrusts that would bring her back with the minimum fuel use until she realised there was probably little point now.

"Forget it," she muttered, and then pitched the ship nose-over-tail until they were pointing back at earth. "Hold on to something, we're gonna see what this bucket can _really_ do."

Phil fumbled for his seatbelt and almost had it locked together when the main engines fired. And kept firing. The sudden shift of g-forces pressed them both into their seats for mere moments but, even with the ship's inertial dampeners, it was enough force to fling Phil forward out of his seat the moment the engines cut out again. He thumped against the radio console. Leela gasped in surprise at his sudden movement. She let go of the wheel and leaned over Phil to help him back to his seat.

"I'm sorry," she said once he was seated again. "That won't count against me, will it?"

"I think I can overlook it this time." Phil tossed the clipboard over his shoulder and stared, hard-faced, at the oncoming sphere of earth. "Unlike some other things..."


	5. Step Change

Phil tore down the ship's ramp as soon as it made landfall and ran for the office, where he almost collided with Leela in the door. "Woah..."

"Sorry, my fault."

"Oh. Yeah, no it's..." Phil looked over his shoulder at Blue, now stood at the foot of the ship's ramp with her arms wrapped around her body against the cold. She smiled at Phil and started walking over the pad toward them. "Never mind, let's see that file."

He slipped past Leela and made a beeline for the clerk's desk. He paused a moment when he saw the unconscious clerk tied to a chair and glanced at Leela, then Fry. Then he shrugged and sat down behind the screen. "All right, what do we have here..."

"Fry found something he called a Section Fifteen," Leela said once Phil was comfortable. He began tapping away at the screen and keyboard as he searched through the file for other blocks. Leela looked up at Blue as she entered the office and knelt down by the clerk, now groaning and shifting around in his seat.

"What happened to him?"

"Fry hit him over the head with a chair."

Fry held up his hands and tried to look innocent as Blue and Phil both looked at him, their faces betraying their doubt to Fry's great annoyance.

"So I... look, that that thing's flashing again," he said in a lame attempt to change the subject. It worked.

"Section fifteen... I almost got one of those a couple of years back. Morgan had to... well it should be easy to remove," he said before a lengthy period of silent typing. At the end he grinned and hit a few keys only to be met with a warning beep. "Oh. Looks like the clerk here isn't high ranked enough to remove it. Well I'll just log in as myself and-"

There was another beep. Phil grunted and shuffled about in his seat. He started to tap at the screen again, a frown deepening on his forehead a his fingers flew across the keyboard. Another beep. Phil swore.

Fry leaned over his counterpart and peered at the screen. "What's up?"

"I'm locked out." Phil frowned at the screen. "That can't be right..."

"Locked out?"

"That's what I said!" Phil pointed at the screen and waved his finger at it, as if that would make things simpler to understand. "I can't even check to see what's been done now. If I could log in and check I could find out what's been put in place and maybe even find out who did it, but now I-"

"I think we all know who did it." Blue gave Phil a meaningful look. "It's obvious."

"Well it might seem obvious to you, but-"

"It's her!" Blue stood up, her eye blazing as she marched toward Phil. She thumped both hands down on the desk and glared at him. "Don't you try and _protect_ her."

"I'm not protecting her! I... I just... well how would _you_ feel?"

Blue turned away with a loud _huff_ and wrapped her arms around her chest. None of them dared break the lengthening silence for fear of setting off another argument until Blue dropped her arms again and let out a withering sigh. "All right, so you can't get in..."

"I said that," Phil retorted. He knocked a closed fist against the screen a few times, lost in thought. "If I had someone else to check for me I could-"

"We could-" both Leela's began. They looked at each other in confusion. Leela waved her hand at Blue and looked away. Fry, taking advantage of the confused silence, wandered over behind the clerk and lifted up his head.

"What about this guy?"

Phil looked up from the screen, confused until he saw the clerk. He shook his head. "No chance, he's out cold."

"Seems to be coming around to me," Fry said. He patted the clerk's face a few times, eliciting another groan. "See?"

Leela put her arm across Fry's shoulder and gently moved him away from the injured clerk. "I don't think it'll work, Fry. After what you did to him he'll probably be out for the rest of the day."

"Oh. Well..." Fry shrugged and leaned back against the wall, incidentally trapping Leela's arm across his back. She glared at him until he shifted to let her free again. "Sorry."

"There's only one way to find out," Leela said, ignoring Fry's nervous glances while she rubbed her arm. He was still bony. Blue cut in before Leela could continue.

"We go to the source," she said, thumping a balled hand against the table hard enough to make Phil jump in surprise. "We go over there and, and axe her, yeah. We go to the source."

"Right," Leela finished with lame shrug. She looked over her shoulder at Fry. "It'll give us another chance to get home again."

Blue looked up at Leela, shock colouring her face. She turned and, almost collapsing, sat on the edge of the desk, her eye wide as she stared at Leela.

"Home? But... but you..."

"We can't stay," Leela said. She moved beside Blue and took her hand. It was warm, her skin flushed by the violent emotions she was feeling. Leela looked herself in the eye and tried to smile. "We can't. I have responsibilities."

"But I _need_ you..."

"You don't need me. You _are_ me."

Phil stood up, fast, knocking his seat over so that it clunked against the wall, making Blue flinch in surprise. He spun his jacket onto his arms and then pulled a tie from the inside pocket. "We'd better go," he said quickly, then managed to stumble over the fallen chair before he'd even taken a step. Fry chuckled as a recent memory swam through his head. He leaned over Phil to help him to his feet again.

"I don't see what's funny," Phil said, brushing his suit down. Fry just shrugged.

"If you two are quite done conspiring, we really should be going." Leela put her hands on her hips and glared at Fry and Phil in turn, then spun on her heel and stalked from the office, Blue trailing behind her like a lost lamb. Fry and Phil shrugged at each other before they, too, walked from the room. The door swung shut with a loud clunk and, for a moment, there was silence.

The clerk peeled one eye open and looked around. Satisfied he was alone, he edged his chair toward the desk and started to very carefully tap the screen with his nose. After a few tries the screen bleeped and began to load a new program. A moment passed while the clerk looked around the room for some means to escape from his chair, then a face appeared on the screen.

"New New York Police Department, how may I direct your call?"

"I'd like the emergency response department, please," the clerk said. He grimaced slightly as a headache started to make itself felt. "I'd like to report multiple refusals to complete appropriate paperwork."

The officer's face paled a little. "Please hold, sir..."

The clerk smiled a grim smile. Intuition told him that his own rescue would probably take a very, very long time, but he was prepared for the wait. Waiting with his hands tied was practically his job.

* * *

Phil drew his car up outside the Planet Express building with little regard for the parking regulations. Besides, he technically owned the land if what Leela – he couldn't remember which one – had said about the Professor was true, which meant he could park on it however he liked. As he stepped from the car he looked up at the sky and briefly wondered if he should check up on the old man. Could he get him out?

Planet Express stood before them, a stark grey monolith that seemed to dominate the view despite its relative lack of stature. Something about the building stood stark in his vision, had stood out the first time he'd seen the place, however briefly it had been. He stood aside to help his Leela from the car and then turned to look at their counterparts, who were hovering on the far side of the vehicle.

"You remember the plan," he asked quietly as his gaze returned to his own Leela. Somehow thinking about her like that felt-

"Are you sure it's a good idea?"

"Absolutely," Phil replied. Without waiting for a protest he squared his shoulders and marched toward the building.

The door slid open just before he reached it and the guards – the same guards – stepped out and glowered at him, their arms crossed over their barrel-chests, reeking of waxed leather and shoe polish. They didn't react when Blue walked up behind him, not even sparing her a glance. Then, all at once, they stood aside and Morgan Proctor stepped out of the lobby. She glanced at Leela with a raised eyebrow and then registered something that might have been surprise before turning her eyes to Phil again. He looked down at his feet; he'd never been able to return that gaze for long.

"I see you are not to be dissuaded," Morgan said. She tilted her glasses forward and looked at Leela again. "Did she spin you some story about my persecution of her over the years?"

"Not really," Phil replied, then followed up with a half shrug. He smiled a private smile as a thought crossed his mind. "You're not jealous, are you?"

"Philip, why do you persist in wasting your time with this..." Morgan paused for a second as if considering her next words. "This _woman_?"

Phil shrugged again. He had to look away, that gaze was almost soul-destroying, but then he found he was looking at Leela. It probably wouldn't have mattered which one she was, really, though he was starting to learn the differences – his Leela had nicer hair for one thing – because the simple sight of her seemed to give him a strange sort of inner strength. Phil gave her an encouraging smile and then turned to look at his wife again.

"What you did to her was wrong, Morgan. You ignored protocol."

Morgan glanced uneasily at the guards flanking her and then, satisfied they weren't listening to the accusation, cocked her eyebrow at Phil. "I think you had better come inside."

* * *

Leela edged around the side of the building as soon as the door hissed shut and ran toward it, silently praying that her counterpart had found the strength to carry out her part of the plan. She stopped an inch or so from the door, ran her fingers around the frame and let out a quiet cry of joy when she found the door wasn't quite sealed thanks to a tiny sliver of metal at the foot of the frame. Leela turned away from the stark door and motioned to Fry to join her.

"Did they do it?"

Leela nodded and slipped her fingers into the gap between the door and its frame. She braced her boot against the frame and pulled at the door with as much strength as she could muster until it shifted. "Get in here, Fry!"

"Right... what?" Fry stumbled up the steps beside Leela and stared at the door, confused. "You want me to squeeze through that tiny gap? I know I'm lithe and supple but-"

"Just hold the door!"

"Oh. Right." Fry shuffled up to the door and braced his arm against the cold metal, giving Leela that little extra bit of support she needed. She pulled at the door again until, with a tearing, grinding sound, the mechanism finally gave way and the door slid back with a loud thump. Fry stumbled as his support from the door suddenly disappeared; he fell forward and landed with his head against Leela's chest as she fell back against the far side of the frame.

For a moment they stood like that, Leela too surprised to move and Fry frozen in place, probably with fear. Leela squeezed her eye shut and very gently lifted her friend from his resting place. "Fry, now isn't a good time..."

"Does that mean maybe _later_- I'll be good!" he yelped as Leela punched him on the shoulder, just hard enough to sting without bruising. She narrowed her eye at him, wondering why she let him get away with it, then turned to look at the lobby.

It was dim and quiet, and deserted, without even the replaceable receptionist Leela had long ago learned to ignore as part of the furniture though, fortunately, neither was there any sign of the oversized guards that had menaced their local counterparts earlier, a fact for which Leela was incredibly thankful. She could have taken on one of them, just about. Two would have been nearly impossible.

Leela turned around at the sound of the door grinding as it tried to close itself, until it gave up with a spluttering shower of sparks and a cloud of blue-grey smoke. She shook her head at the sight. "I hope they have insurance..."

"Do we care?" Fry edged around the door with a wary eye on the still-sparking mechanism and then into the lobby. While Leela leaned down to pick up the wedge her counterpart had left in the door he wandered around the lobby, then stopped, sniffed at the air and frowned. "Bender was never here, right?"

"Uh, I guess..." Leela looked up from the metal tag bracelet her counterpart had left in the door and glanced around the deserted room. Oddly there was no dust in the air, or on any surface. This whole world was so _clean_, it put their best efforts to shame. She took off her wrist whatsit and held the tag up to the one her parents had left her with. They were identical.

She dropped the tag into her pocket and slid her hand back into the device. "You never met him on this world so I guess not. Why?"

"I can smell cigar smoke," Fry said. He sniffed the air again and frowned, his brow knotted in deep thought, but he couldn't seem to keep it up for long. The casual shrug, and then he was back to his usual self again.

"It's probably nothing, Fry. One of the guards." Something about Fry's attitude worried Leela, coupled with the paranoia he'd developed about the other, dark-haired version of herself. She put the thought to one side. Ahead of them the door to the building's interior stood open and dim onto the back of the loading dock and small package reception. Leela glanced around the room and up at the stairs to the upper floor where their counterparts would be sitting down to their meeting any moment now. "We'd better get a move on," she said, as much to herself as to Fry.

The package reception and loading dock were both as empty as the lobby and what little equipment had been left behind was covered in sheets. Leela resisted the urge to tip-toe through the room and strode as boldly – and quietly – as she dared to the hangar.

Proctor's voice echoed through the hangar as they reached the door, though Leela couldn't make out what she was saying. She didn't sound particularly happy to see either of their counterparts. _Not my problem any more_, Leela thought to herself as she crept out of the door and along the wall. The main store-room was beyond the ship and the professor's lab, which meant they'd have to get past the stairs up to the conference area without being seen. Probably not too difficult. Leela paused to look up at the silvery clone of her ship – the Planet Express ship, not hers, she had to correct herself. Not hers.

The ship seemed strangely forlorn, sat out in the middle of the hangar, her ports dark, inspection panels left hanging open and a pair of detached umbilicals resting on the floor beneath her broad belly, waiting to be connected to the auxiliary power system that kept the ship alive when her generators were off-line. Leela couldn't see most of the flight deck but, even from this angle, the dust sheets over the few visible consoles were obvious, as was the fact that they had been there for a very long time. The ship was as good as dead, unless...

Leela turned to Fry and pushed him against the wall. "Fry, go wait over by the store room. I have something to do."

Fry grunted something that might have been acknowledgement, but he didn't contradict her and, with a unashamedly longing look back at Leela, sneaked past the stairs toward the store room. Leela turned back toward the silent ship and looked up at it again, then around the hangar. With small, carefully silent steps she made her way toward the port-side wing, with every stride expecting someone to shout an alarm. Once at the wing Leela stopped and shot a glance back toward the conference area; they seemed oblivious to her, which could only be a good thing. Leela slipped beneath the ship and sought out the detached umbilicals. They were covered in a thin layer of oily, grey dust that greased her palms when she picked up the first cable. Normally she'd be wearing gloves for this, Leela thought, strangely unconcerned. She hefted the oversized plug toward the ship's belly where an access port had been left open, waiting for the umbilicals to be attached, for how long she couldn't be sure. There was a quiet click and a hum as she pushed the umbilical into place.

Leela silently attached the second umbilical, listened to the quiet buzz of the capacitors charging and watched the display as it registered a power flow for what was probably the first time in months. The ship's internal systems were completely drained from sitting so long without power, she realised, and it was probably going to take quite a while for the ship to bring itself back online again. Leela patted the ship's hull and, for reasons beyond her ken, whispered a small comfort to it then slid across the hangar, toward the store-room.

Fry was waiting by the door when she arrived, clenching and unclenching his hands with a nervous expression. In the distance she could hear the wail of a police siren that echoed around the hangar to remind Leela how large and empty the space felt without any activity. Fry turned to her, his face knotted up in frustration and anger.

"What's the matter?"

"I can't get in." His whispered reply was loud and harsh in the near-silence. Leela pushed past him and tried the door. She rattled the handles, even risked thumping her shoulder against it, but the doors refused to open. The lock, an old but reliable physical lock stood out in her vision and Leela put her hand to her head as slow realisation dawned.

"Oh, right, the guard locked it when we left..." Leela looked about the hangar, frustrated and angry at herself for neglecting such an important detail. "We need to find the key."

"How?"

She glanced up at the conference area, then closed her eye and groaned. "Proctor must have it... how could I be so _stupid_?"

"So now what?"

"There's nothing for it," Leela said. She took Fry's arm and started to lead him away from the door. "We'll just have to get it from her."

Fry started to protest, but only managed to splutter something incoherent before they heard the shot.

* * *

The conference room was as bleak as the rest of the building, deathly quiet and still. In the background the silvery Planet Express ship hung over proceedings with a ghostly presence, adding a strange and almost ethereal feeling to the whole affair. Her ports were dark, inspection ports hung open all over her hull. Phil caught Leela's eye and tried to encourage her with another smile but the distress she felt at seeing the ship in such an uncared-for condition was obvious and unassailable. He took her to a seat almost opposite Morgan, then sat himself down a neutral distance between the two women and turned to face his wife.

Morgan looked up from a file that lay open on the table and glanced at the guards. "You can go now. Secure the building and then return to the Central Bureaucracy for re-assignment."

The nearest of the pair nodded and waved at his companion. She picked up a sheet of paper and peered at it as the guards left, then looked into Phil's eyes and raised an eyebrow. "So. Here we are."

"Morgan, you can't hide behind your badge this time," Phil said. He laid his hands out on the table and leaned toward her just a little, almost pleading but, not quite. "You broke the rules."

"I followed correct procedures at every step of my interaction with this person." Morgan leaned forward in her chair and peered over her glasses at Phil with just a hunt of amusement in her eyes. "This is considerably more than I can say for her. And you."

"I have a name," Leela muttered. She pointed at Morgan, eye suddenly wide and blazing with anger, and it seemed all that stopped her from launching herself at Morgan was Phil's presence between them. "You put that block on my license without, uh..."

"An accompanying request for closure," Phil prompted. He screwed up his eyes at the reflexive reply, knowing that Morgan would see his helping Leela as something akin go high treason. Couldn't be helped now.

"Right! That thing." Leela folded her arms and glared at Morgan again. The bureaucrat shook her head as if refusing a challenge and smiled a small, cold smile. She sat back, gave Phil a pointed look and then flipped through the folder before her to a page near the back. She laid her hands on it with an almost reverential air.

"Since you are here I assume you are unaware that the Section Fifteen process I have initiated against this woman can be expanded to include any of her associates."

"Oh yeah, I know about... wait..." Phil glanced at Leela in confusion, then back at Morgan. "You mean _me?_"

"Naturally, Philip." Morgan smiled again, yet her eyes were hard as ice as she continued to speak. "You are associating with this woman, are you not?"

"Yes, but that's in a professional..." Morgan held up her hand and Phil's voice trailed to silence. He shuffled in his seat, which emitted a lout creak that echoed the near-absolute silence of the hangar. "You can't be serious! Morgan, what did I do?"

Morgan spread her fingers out on the folder. Her lip twitched, almost, but not quite, forming a smile again and she raised her eyebrow at Phil and very carefully lifted up a sheet of paper. When she spoke, it was with an officious, emotionless air that seemed to chill the very air. "It is enough that you associated with her."

"Morgan!"

"_Mister_ Fry, I assume you are aware of the penalties for fraternising with mutants?"

Phil's face paled at the mention of the word. "Mutants? I... I don't know what... "

Slowly, very slowly, he turned to look at Leela. She was as pale as he, and now blinking back tears as she looked into Phil's eyes, her mouth slightly open as she choked back a quiet sob. Phil abruptly broke eye contact and looked away. In the cold silence that followed, Morgan smiled her cold smile again and placed her single sheet of paper back on the table's surface, then took off her glasses and closed her eyes as she pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Philip, I am willing to overlook these indiscretions. I will, as you so creatively put it on several occasions, 'fudge' the paperwork, I will even allow you to return to flying those spaceships you are so enamoured with. I have already reactivated your access to the Central Bureaucracy Mainframe as a... a good will gesture." She returned her glasses to her nose, all business again as she leafed through the papers and settled on a specific form. Morgan lifted up the form, examined it for a moment and the slipped it across the table to Phil. She held out a pen. "All you have to do is sign this."

Phil picked up the form and read through it with an almost casual air. He laid it back on the table. "Morgan, this... you know what happens to mutants who are caught on the surface. You're asking me to sign her death sentence."

"Yes." Morgan lifted the pen a little closer to Phil and peered at him over the top of her glasses again. "Consider the alternatives, Philip. The law is quite clear."

Phil took the pen and stared at it for a while, then at Morgan. He read through the form again as he lifted the pen's lid and laid it on the table, where it rolled onto its side with a quiet click. Phil rested the pen's nib against the marked spot and pressed down, letting a sliver of ink roll out onto the paper, but then hesitated. "No, I can't. I _won't._"

Leela let out a breath Phil hadn't even realised she was holding, followed by a quiet sob. He resisted the urge to reach toward her, instead forcing himself to look at Morgan without flinching for perhaps the first time in his life. She blinked at the sudden ferocity of his stare. "It's you or her, Philip. And us."

"You know this isn't right, Morgan."

"Disobedient_boy!_" Morgan's eyes blazed with anger, and something else Phil hadn't seen for a very long time. He finally looked away across the hangar and took a deep breath to speak when something, a flash of purple beneath the ship, caught his eye. He frowned and then, gathering his wits, quickly looked back at the files.

"Morgan, you don't have any proof of this."

"I don't _need_ proof," Morgan cried, swiping up the folder. She waved the fluttering papers at Phil, eyes wide with triumph, her teeth bared by a near-feral grin. "I have _paperwork_!"

Phil slapped his hand against the file and knocked it to the ground, where it landed with a crisp smack. The papers it held exploded out against the tiled floor and then lay still, spread out in disarray on the floor, apart from a single sheet that fluttered in the breeze from an air-conditioning unit. Morgan's eye twitched, her gaze never leaving Phil's face. Her lips parted ever so slightly and she let out a breath that might have been a sigh, and still she never took her eyes from his face.

"Paperwork isn't enough this time."

"Paperwork is everything!"

Phil's voice was quiet now as he looked from Morgan to Leela and back again. Morgan finally tore her gaze away from him long enough to look at the scattered papers with a guarded interest. She tilted her head to one side and the other as she examined them on the floor, her eyes twitching back and forth. "I won't let you bully me into this, Morgan. Not again. You don't have any proof."

"Perhaps you are correct, Philip..." Morgan looked up suddenly at the word, another cold smile forming on her lips. She turned her full body toward Phil and leaned forward to rest her elbows on the table, one hand under her chin as she stared at Phil. "Nevertheless, I have all the proof I need."

Morgan's eye's flickered away from Phil toward the far end of the conference area. Her smile broadened a little but, at the same time, Phil could see a little uncertainty cloud her vision. With great care he turned to look toward the far end of the room. "Oh great, another one..."

Evila stood silhouetted in the doorway like a spectre, with only the glow of a cigarette highlighting her face. She turned to look at Phil with a creak of leather and gave him a lascivious smile.

"Hello boys and girls," Evila said with a broad grin. She took a drag on the cigarette, tossed it aside and posed in the doorway for a moment, then stood upright as she noticed the presence of Leela at the table. "Philip, you have a friend!"

Phil slumped in his seat and sighed. "I'm in some sort of nightmare, right? Normally this would be where my grandmother turns up with a baby she says is mine..."

"No nightmare." Evila sauntered across the room and dragged her fingers across Phil's chest as she walked around the table toward Morgan's seat, almost drawing blood but not _quite_. Behind Morgan's chair, she spread her arm across the seat-back and surveyed the table with a lazy smile. Phil frowned at her and ignored the urge to look for the other visiting Leela. He dragged his eyes away from Evila and looked Morgan full in the face.

"This is your proof?"

"My proof," Morgan confirmed with a careful nod. Phil suddenly realised she was nervous, scared even. He eyed the pistol strapped to Evila's hip, the anachronistic mechanism a stark reminder that the world he inhabited was not quite his own, even now, even after all this time. Morgan's eyes kept flicking to the pistol as well, and to him, as if thinking the same thoughts; and she was terrified, behind those calm eyes, of Evila, of Leela... even of him?

"Another me isn't proof of anything." Leela gave Evila a dismissive glance. "We've already met one today."

Morgan's eyes widened in surprise whilst Leela fingered her own hair, twisting a freed lock of it around her fingers as she regarded the other's onyx locks, her face making it obvious how absurd she found the whole situation. "Black hair is a little cliché don't you think?"

"It's natural! besides, you've gotta stay in character," Evila replied with an airy shrug. Leather creaked as she knelt down beside Morgan's chair, one hand on the back and the other fingering Morgan's arm with a little too much familiarity. "So, Morgan, got what you need yet?"

Morgan looked at Evila as if she hadn't realised the other woman was there. She shook her head tightly, thrown off balance by Leela's outburst, and gently drew herself away from Evila's hand.

"Ah... no, unfortunately not." Morgan reached toward the form and laid her hand over it as if incanting a blessing, her eyes flicking nervously between Phil and Evila. "Philip, you _must_ sign this form. I have known this woman for far longer than you, she is clearly insane-"

"Thanks!" Evila slipped another cigarette from somewhere within her jacket. "Nice to be noticed," she added as she flicked open an old-fashioned gas lighter, her eye fixed on Phil. The cigarette flared as she drew down on it, sparking a tiny orange light deep in her pupil. Evila took a deep drag of the cigarette and finally looked away to blow a smoke ring toward the ceiling.

Morgan's eyes rolled toward Evila and, even through the obvious fear, her contempt was obvious when she continued speaking. "Philip, this is the only way. Sign the form so we can be rid of this... creature."

Phil stared blankly at the form as Morgan slid it back toward him. He looked aside at the table's shiny black surface and caught sight of his own reflection, staring back at him; he was terrified. Phil squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath, and when he opened them again he could see Leela's face beside his own. A sliver of a smile pulled at the corners of his mouth and, very gently, Phil laid his hand on the edge of the form.

"No. I'm sorry, Morgan, but I'm not going to do this." And then Phil picked up the form and deftly crumpled it into a little ball with one hand. He tossed it on the floor, never taking his eyes off Morgan's face.

Morgan sucked in a deep breath and swallowed several times before letting it out again as a very slight, shivering groan. "You... you, _dirty_..."

"Boy?" Phil sat back in his chair. The look on Morgan's face brought a bemused smile to his own; she stared at him, torn between anger and sheer lust. "I'm not a boy, Morgan. I haven't been for a very long time."

Leela looked between them in complete confusion. She shared a glance with Evila and saw she was just as confused; probably the only thing they had in common right at that moment. "I'm completely lost now."

In the following silence a faint police siren gradually made its presence felt above the distant hum of traffic. Leela's voice seemed to shock Morgan out of her torpor. She stood up, gathered up the few papers left on the conference table, abruptly turned to Evila and looked up into her face. "Miss Turanga..."

"You called the cops," Evila muttered. Her hand rested on the butt of that vicious pistol and she stepped back, eye sweeping across the trio. "_One_ of you called the police again, didn't you!"

The pistol came out, swung toward Phil before he could even stand up. The siren grew in the background, filling the silence until Morgan spoke again. She held out her hand toward Evila, placatory, willing. "Miss Turanga, you must remain calm."

"Calm!" The pistol shivered in her hand as Evila threw a hateful glance at Morgan. She took a step toward Phil, re-sighting the gun on his crotch. "Calm my perky pink ass! Give me the key to the store-room or I will _shoot_ him."

"You're going to shoot him anyway, though, aren't you."

Leela stood up and moved the three steps toward Phil's side. He looked at her as she touched his arm and smiled, a little, before turning back to look at Evila. "You want to kill him. I can see it in your face. Why?"

"His hair annoys me," Evila muttered. The gun lowered a little as she turned to look at Leela and then a smile broke out. "You're like me aren't you! You-"

"No._I'm _sane." Leela took a step toward Evila, who tilted her head to one side and let out a bitter laugh.

"Oh well, it was worth a try. Morgan, the keys."

Evila held out her free hand toward Proctor and waited. When nothing happened she stole narrow-eyed a glance toward the Morgan, who was staring at Evila in wrought horror, eyes wide and her face pale as the surrounding walls. Morgan shook her head, more of a shiver than a gesture of defiance, and backed up toward her chair.

"_Morgan_..."

"Upstairs!" Morgan collapsed into her chair, any pretence of control finally dropped in the face of her fear. "They're upstairs, in my office, uh... third drawer down on the left in betw-"

"I get it the picture. Well..." Evila thumbed the pistol's hammer back with a loud click and re-aimed the gun at Phil's head. "So long, Fry."

Morgan gasped and reached out toward Evila's arm. "What are you doing? You told me you just wanted to go home!"

"Quiet!_This_ is what I came here for!" Evila shook Morgan's hand from her arm and pushed her back into the seat. "You spineless, bureaucratic moron, you're the same every time I've met you. If it isn't obvious to you yet, I'm here to _kill_ him."

"But you said-"

"I don't care what I said! I'm a free spirit, I can say whatever I want!"

"No." Leela stood in front of Phil and squared her shoulders at Evila. She stared down her meta-sister with surprising ferocity. Surprising for Phil, at any rate."You're not going to do this. You'll have to shoot me first."

"Don't think I won't," Evila said, jerking the gun forward. She glowered at Leela, resolute in her defiance, and at Phil behind her, calmer and more collected than she was used to, but still the same son of a- "Get out of the way! I'll do it, I swear!"

Leela's smile was narrow as she turned her head just far enough to catch Phil's eye, then looked back at her dark mirror, her smile wider at the sight of Evila's obvious discomfort.

"I don't think you will. I know you can't shoot me. You can't kill_yourself_."

"You know, I think you're right, sis." Evila chuckled, then broke out into a harsh laugh as her eye widened with something that looked like untrammelled lust. "But, then, I don't _need_ to, do I? Not this time."

She turned the gun toward Morgan and pulled the trigger before the bureaucrat could even cry out in shock. Morgan shook from the impact of the bullet as it ripped into her chest just to the left of her sternum. Shivering with pain and shock, she slipped slowly from the chair even as she tried to grasp hold of the table edge, looked over at Phil, tried to speak and then, with a quiet sigh, slumped to the floor.

A prolonged silence followed. Morgan drew a deep, ragged breath and then lay still while a stream of smoke curled from the barrel of the gun. Evila closed her eye and took a deep breath from the gun smoke that swirled around her head.

"Morgan?" Phil choked back a strangled yell, finally spurred into action, and tried to push past Leela. She held her arms around him. "No, let me past! _Morgan!_"

Evila drew a bead on Phil, tightening her grip on the trigger, then suddenly relaxed again and lowered the gun. She looked down at Morgan, then turned her eye toward Phil and Leela, looking at them from beneath her fringe with a wicked smile. "Man... I didn't think I'd find anything more satisfying than just shooting you, Fry but, I gotta say, this was _much_ better. You should see the look on your face..."

"Bitch!"

Evila laughed and backed up toward the exit. She holstered the pistol as the door slid open for her, backed out of the room and paused on the threshold, from where she blew Phil a kiss as the door clunked shut again.

Leela finally let go of Phil as soon as the door sealed. He roughly pushed her out of the way in his haste to get to Morgan. Phil knelt down beside his wife and gently rolled her onto her back. "Morgan, come on honey... come on..."

She was dead. He knew it before he even saw her lifeless eyes, by the way her body slid and crooked over the floor and the way her arm shifted and bent, muscles loose and unresisting. Phil laid a shaking hand against Morgan's cheek, then took her still-warm, bloodied hand and held it to his own. A quiet sob choked in his throat as he touched her face again. He let her hand slip from his grasp and fall gently on her shattered chest.

Leela rested her hand on his shoulder and knelt down beside him. Without thinking he grabbed for her, eyes still fixed on Morgan's face even as he reached out for the only support he had left. She hesitantly put her arm around his shoulders and hushed at Phil as if he were a little child.

Footsteps thumped up the stairs from the hangar, to a background of police cruisers blaring to a halt outside the building. They looked up and saw their doubles, frozen at the head of the stairs, taking in the scene blank-faced. Phil took in a ragged breath and pointed at the far exist.

"She..." was all he managed.

One of the Leela's started to speak. "It'll be..."

Her voice tailed off. Phil didn't care which one it was. He didn't care about anything.


	6. Home?

She turned the moment the door thumped into its seal and stormed up the stairs, her breath short from more than mere exertion.

"Exquisite," she mumbled. Leela stopped on the stairs and pulled out the pistol with a shivery hand. The barrel was still warm and there was a speck of blood on the grip, which matched two more on her fingers. Not his blood this time. He was still whole, and yet she had still destroyed him as effectively as if she'd put a bullet in his brain. "Exquisite..."

The thought that she could so completely destroy Fry without even harming his body was strangely gratifying.

Of course, he'd still have to die.

Leela holstered the gun and patted its grip as she continued to mount the stairs toward Morgan's office. She could deal with Fry once she had the key and a way out of this backwater universe, and then she could deal with the other one too as an added bonus. After that, well, her back was a little stiff, perhaps another visit to that nice universe with the Neptunian slave-girls was in order.

She reached Morgan's office just as the first police cruiser slid to a halt outside the building, its flickering red-and-blue lights casting alternate shadows on the wall of the small room. More cruisers blared in and swung around, forming a cordon across the road and the plaza outside the Planet Express offices. Leela ignored them, intent on the key. They wouldn't be able to stop her, or even _find_ her. She paused at the desk. Which drawer had Proctor said? Third on the right? She opened the drawer and found it empty apart from three neatly aligned pencils.

"_This is the New New York Police Department, we have you surrounded." _

Leela cocked her head toward the window. It was... what was his name, Smithy or something? They always put him on the loudspeaker for some reason. Maybe he was the only one able to use it.

"_Send out the unformants one at a time and no harm will come to you. You have ten minutes to comply."_

"Fat chance," Leela muttered as she pulled the drawers open. Third down on the left? She slid her hand into the drawer and was immediately rewarded with a feeling of cold metal and plastic. She retrieved an old mechanical key. "Looks like I'm not the only one who likes the simple things. Well... _liked_, I guess."

A picture of Fry and the bureaucrat stood on the desk, obviously several years old; they looked happy together. Leela picked up the picture and stared at it for a moment, then ran her finger down the image of Fry's face with a faint smile. Then she tossed the picture over her shoulder, drew her pistol and walked to the window.

There were ten or twelve cruisers outside, all with their lights still flashing, with dozens of armoured police milling aimlessly between between them. With deliberate lack of haste Leela drew an aim on the nearest car and let off two shots at the lights, smashing them both and sending the cops diving for cover under their vehicles. She backed away from the window with a satisfied chuckle, content to let the police make a little mess for the others downstairs while she made her escape.

Leela paused and picked up the photo again. The glass was cracked and splintered easily from the frame, leaving a delicate hole over Fry's face.

"Screwing up your life was fun, Fry. You know what? I might even leave you this way." Leela ran her fingers over the picture. A lazy smile creased her lips as she thought about the new revenge she'd have on Fry, the years of torture that would replace simple death. "It's the least you owe me."

The picture slipped from her hands again and crunched against the floor. Leela twirled the key around her fingers and started to whistle as she left the office, just as the first badly aimed gas grenade thumped against the wall below the window.

* * *

The conference room was silent – apart from the sound of the police, that was, even muffled by walls and distance as they were. Emergency lights flickered through the tall hangar windows, casting strange, twisted silhouettes across the walls and over the ship's mirror-finish hull, from which a second layer of spun light flitted over the giant hangar doors in the ceiling. The only other notable sound was Phil's ragged breathing, punctuated by the occasional sobs that escaped his lips as he clawed at Blue's shoulders.

The stink of cigarettes and gun smoke drifted behind everything. Fry and Leela took in the scene without words until their twins looked up at them, one with desperation and the other with a strange, blank emptiness.

"She..." Phil raised his hand and pointed toward the far end of the conference room. Leela glanced over at the sealed door – the one Amy had retreated through yesterday in their own universe – and then back down at Phil.

"It'll be..."

Leela's voice faded away as Phil's eyes dropped back to his wife's corpse. There wasn't much to say. Leela looked down at Morgan's lifeless body and swallowed hard. In all her life, she'd been around danger many times, and seen death on more than one occasion, but never anything quite so visceral and primitive. She glanced at Fry, for once wishing he'd been wrong about something.

Leela knelt down alongside Phil, putting herself between him and the mortal remains of his wife. She took his hand and looked at Blue, who nodded slightly, before they both stood up, bringing Phil upright with them.

"Come on..."

Phil whimpered again but didn't resist as the pair walked him to the steps and then down. The destination wasn't particularly important as long as they got him – and them – away from the body. Fry followed behind and deftly stepped past Phil when he collapsed back onto the steps.

Fry leaned against the staircase and stared up at the flickering ceiling with his hands in his pockets. Leela looked at her counterpart again and took a deep breath. She was about to speak when Phil looked up.

"So now what?"

"You want that key..." He ran a hand through his ragged hair and stood to look at Leela. "She's dead because of you."

"What?"

"That's not fair," Fry yelled as he stabbed an angry finger at Phil. "We saved your life! Kinda..."

"He's right, you know." Blue put a hand on Phil's shoulder but he shrugged it off. She self consciously pinched at her thumb as she continued. "She wanted to kill you. If they hadn't found us first you'd be dead by now."

Phil turned part-way to look up at the empty space. He scrubbed an arm across his face to catch the tears before they got too far down his cheeks.

"At least Morgan would still be alive."

Blue put her hands around Phil's shoulders again, and leaned her head against the back of his neck once it was clear he wasn't going to push her away. Phil shook his head and closed his eyes.

"You really loved her, didn't you," Leela said.

"I_did_. Sometimes I wondered about how things might have been. This isn't really how I wanted to find out."

Leela reached out for Phil but hesitated at the last moment as his hand wrapped around Blue's arm. She backed off, leaving them for a moment, until a high-pitched whine of feedback echoed through the building, followed by an adenoidal voice on a loudspeaker.

"_This is the New New York Police Department, we have you surrounded."_

"Oh that's just _perfect,_" Leela muttered. Phil and Blue both looked around nervously as the voice continued talking, looking for some way to escape the trap they found themselves in.

They all flinched at the muffled crack of a pistol being fired, Phil and Fry especially; something about the sound seemed to reach into some memory or fear that Leela had never seen before. Fry had instinctively grabbed her arm.

"I told you she-"

"All right! I get it, you were right, I'm wrong. Fine..." Leela glanced around the hangar again. The door was still firmly locked, as if that would have changed since the last time she checked. Without knowing why, Leela looked up at the ship and watched the lights flicker against its shimmery skin. "Fry..."

A loud crash cut Leela off before she could continue. They looked around at the sound of falling glass; a barrage of gas grenades flew through the shattered north windows of the hangar and cracked against the floor, spinning as they vented their contents. The gas didn't seem to be rising too well and hugged close to a foot off the ground, but it wouldn't stay that way for long.

Leela and Blue's eyes met. "Hazmat suits?"

"There's two still working, locker six." Blue pointed toward the back of the lab.

"Get Phil on the ship."

Blue nodded and wrapped her arms under Phil's shoulders. She heaved him to his feet and toward the ship before he could protest, whilst Leela grabbed Fry and dragged him into the lab area.

"Leela, I don't want to sound like an idiot-"

"Two hazmat suits, four people. Do the math."

Fry paused and actually started counting on his fingers, much to Leela's chagrin. She grabbed his arm and yanked him past a workbench and into the supply closet. Leela slammed the door and then moved along the room to the correct storage locker.

"But-"

"Not now, Fry!"

Not wanting to waste time she kicked the lock off its pins and yanked the lid from the locker. Leela dug around in the suit parts until she found a pair of fully charged rebreathers and masks. She tossed the masks to Fry, then quickly strapped the first tank around her shoulders.

As she finished securing the other tank to Fry Leela noticed another, smaller locker by the door. In their universe she'd used it to store some of the many plasma and laser weapons they'd 'acquired' on their deliveries to the more hostile worlds, or at least those that hadn't remained on the ship or been used as power sources in the Professor's experiments. With no idea how events had affected that behaviour in this world Leela mouthed a silent prayer to serendipity, lifted the lid and was rewarded with the sight of a dozen neatly stored pistols and spare charges.

"Woah." Fry's awe was probably understandable, even after all this time. He picked up one of the pistols and held it out at arms length. "I didn't know about these..."

"Yeah, and a good thing too," Leela said, snatching the pistol from Fry's grip. She pushed a fresh charge into the breech; the pistol's capacitors whined as it soaked up the charge's power and a string of tiny lights flicked on along its spine. She grabbed a pair of fresh charges and dropped them in her pocket, checked the pistol was in order and looked up at Fry.

"Time to go," she said, securing her mask over her face.

Outside the closet the gas was creeping along the floor like a bad special effect. Fry and Leela paused just beyond the door and looked down at the milky-white gas as it seeped around their feet and into the store.

"I don't get it," Fry muttered a the strode toward the hangar, his voice filtered through the mask's crackly speaker system. "The gas is down there, our heads are up here... what do they want us to do, lie down?"

"That's the plan." Leela paused by another workbench and looked around. The hangar seemed to be empty now, filled with the gas. Blue and Phil were safely ensconced in the ship and Evila – if she was even here – was nowhere to be seen.

"It's a binary reactive gas," she said as she continued toward the hangar, gun held high. "I saw them installing a system like this in the cryogenics lab years ago, in case the hundred clones in room six turned out to be evil or something. They pump the first one in, wait for it to spread out and then drop in the catalyst to... oh lord, what are they doing now?"

"What?"

Leela pointed at the ship. Phil was struggling down the gangway, shouting something and gesturing wildly as Blue tried to hold him back by one arm. To Leela's left Fry yelled and took a step forward. Distracted by the noise, Phil looked around the hangar in confusion and suddenly fell off balance. He slipped down the stairs, pulling Blue with him just as Evila's pistol cracked again, the report echoing around the hangar. A bullet whined off the steps where Phil's head had been just a moment earlier.

Without thinking Leela aimed her weapon up through the ceiling at about where she figured Evila would be stood. The roof exploded in a shower of sparkling composite flakes and shattered concrete that flew a short arc over the hangar and rained down around Phil and Blue's prone forms as Leela ran toward them.

The pistol spoke again and another bullet ricocheted off the gangway. Then another shot and Fry or Phil – she couldn't tell – let out an agonised shriek that rang in her ears. Leela turned back toward the end of the hangar and saw Evila, hair unkempt and ragged, grinning madly at her as she aimed the pistol toward them.

Her smile faltered when Leela brought her own gun to bear on the cracked upper floor.

"You gonna kill me, sister?"

"I might." Leela reached out toward Blue, knowing almost instinctively where she was, and grabbed her shoulder. "Phil?"

"He's-"

"I'm fine," Phil grunted, though he didn't sound it. Leela stepped away from him a little, keeping the gun trained on Evila as she went.

"Fry?"

"I fell on something spiky but I'm okay. It's only a bit spiky."

Leela smiled despite herself. She stepped in between Fry and Evila. "Your move. _'Sister'_."

Evila shrugged and pouted but didn't change her stance. She waved the gun toward Phil a little, then back at Leela and scratched her head, trying to work out what to do next. Leela carefully swapped her gun from one hand to the other and reached into her pocket for a spare charge.

It was about then that the police decided to conclude their proceedings. There was a quiet _whoosh_ as a single, much larger gas cylinder was fired through one of the shattered windows. The device thumped to the floor in front of the ship and cracked open, releasing a puff of pale yellow gas.

"Ohshi-" Leela grabbed her mask and pressed it close to her face. The smoky gas along the floor wavered around the cylinder and then suddenly leapt into the air in in an expanding wave that spread out from where the cylinder had landed. Evila let off a final shot at them before she disappeared behind the gas, laughing madly.

The thickening smoke curled around Leela, surrounding her in an impenetrable white wall. She stuffed the gun into her belt and groped her way over to to the bottom of the ship's gangway where Phil and Blue sat coughing in the thickening air.

"Phil, you two get onto the ship and get out of here. I mean it this time."

"But I need to get Morgan-"

"No buts! The gas takes a few minutes to activate, but once it does you two will be out cold and your lives will be _over_. Get out of here. You can sort out the paperwork later."

She reached out for Blue again and held her arm. "You be careful, okay?"

"Thanks..." Blue touched Leela's hand. Leela took hold of her arm her again and pressed the tag from her pocket into Blue's hand. She looked at the tag, almost smiling as she looked at it, and turned to walk up the gangway before stopping again to look over her shoulder.

"Will we ever see you again?"

"Oh, god knows. Knowing our luck we'll end up back here in a week." She took Blue's hand and squeezed it. "Go!"

Blue ascended out of the rising gas toward Phil, already waiting at the airlock. She turned one last time to look down at Leela and waved sadly. Leela waved back and then the airlock door hissed shut.

"Fry, time to go..."

"What about the key?" Fry grabbed Leela's arm and pointed through the thickening mist at the wrecked conference room. "She's still got it," he said, raising his voice to be sure he was heard through the mask.

"Fry she's long gone by now. Besides," Leela added as she hefted the pistol. "We don't need a key."

"Ohhh..."

Leela grinned until an explosion in the near-distance, the sound of the police making their messy entrance, spurred her into action and she ran for the storeroom. The door was locked when they reached it, though the message scrawled on its surface removed any hope that Evila was trapped here.

"'See you on the other side'," Fry read slowly. He looked at Leela on confusion. "She's not waiting behind the door is she?"

"Let's find out." Leela stood back and fired a blast at the door, shredding it to splinters. She peered into an empty room.

"Nope!"

The storeroom was pretty much as they'd left it, though somewhat the worse for the last few minutes action. A few of the boxes were scuffed from the explosion but whatever material they were made from seemed almost indestructible. None showed more than surface damage.

Behind them the ship's engines spooled up, accompanied by the familiar clank of the launch ramp levering itself upright. Leela turned to watch the ship and smiled to herself as the umbilicals detached and fell to the floor a moment before the main engines fired. The ship roared from the hangar and disappeared into the pale afternoon sky.

Leela held up her wristamijig and recalled the first scan she'd made of the room to pinpoint their original entrance.

"This way."

She guided Fry back through the maze of shelves to their original box. Evidently someone had been cleaning. The box stood upright on the top shelf, its lid sealed, and a ladder leaned against the shelves a short but convenient distance away. Leela stared at the ladder for a second but then whatever suspicions she'd started to form were overridden by another, much closer explosion as the police blundered their way through the building.

Fry grabbed the ladder without even being asked and clambered up it to grab their box. He almost fell back in his haste to reach the floor. Leela put a calming hand on his shoulder whilst she slipped the mask from her face.

"Ready to get back home?"

"Am I ever!"

Leela held her wrist computer over the box's wide, inviting mouth and waved it back and forth for a moment. "Seems to match. I think."

"Great!" With a joyous yell Fry dove into the box head first. Leela shook her head at his understandable enthusiasm to get home. She gave the storeroom one last look, glancing up at the ceiling as if she could actually see the sky her twin had returned to. Whatever happened now, she was on her own.

No. Not quite on her own.

Leela gripped the plasma pistol in both hands and jumped into the box.

* * *

The last tenuous layers of Earth's atmosphere faded behind the ship as it rose up toward the heavens, rotating slowly along its axis to maintain an even temperature across its hull. The sun shone bright and undimmed by the clouds whilst the half-lit face of the moon slowly drew toward them.

Leela slipped the ship into autopilot and turned to watch her new companion as he finished repairing the damage Morgan had done to their lives, at least as far as he was able to. Some things, Leela thought sadly, could never be fixed by filling in a few forms. She stood up and pressed a re-assuring hand to Phil's shoulder while he worked. He reached up to touch it only to shy away again as the memory of the last few hours refreshed in his mind.

"That's the last of it," he said after a moment, shutting off the screen as he turned away from it. Leela leaned against the console and watched the stars as they slowly tracked past the far window, with the rim of the earth forming a disconcerting border to the rear of the ship. "I've called in an ambulance to take care of... um..."

Phil's voice faded away. He swallowed and looked at his hands.

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," Phil replied, pensive, quiet. He sniffed and blinked back a stray tear. "It's hard to say it, but I barely knew her. Even after all this time, I... she was... never there."

"But you must have loved her?"

"I do. I mean, I thought did... but I guess it just took me until now to realise I was wrong."

Phil screwed his eyes up as he rubbed a hand across his face. He looked very tired and small, so small that Leela had to resist the urge to bundle him up in her arms.

"So, now what?"

"Now... I don't know. I doubt I'll be able to take back my old job."

They sat in silence for a while as the ship rolled itself into orbit around the planet, with just to hum and tick of the instruments running through their automated sequences for company. Leela eventually walked over to the couch at the front of the flight deck. Phil joined her a moment later and sat down with a loud sigh, all the while watching the distant stars.

"Isn't that the death satellite?"

"Where? Oh..." Phil watched the tiny mote as it drifted across their path in the far distance. He leaned back and watched the construct that probably still held the mortal soul of his nephew – funny to think of the old man now. Was he even alive?

The satellite drifted up past the north pole and was lost from sight. Sudden realisation dawned as they both looked at each other.

"Phil, you do realise you own the company now, right?"

"I always wondered where that second pay packet was coming from..." he looked up at the ceiling bulkhead and smiled sadly. "Morgan never told me about anything she'd done at the company, I figured Hubert was still the owner. There's a lot she never told me..."

"Well he wasn't, and he isn't. It's your company now, Phil. You can do whatever you want with it."

"I guess."

Leela leaned back, giving Phil a cool glance as he shuffled around in his seat. She smiled and, despite everything, Phil managed to smiled back.

"I'll need a pilot."

"You're in luck." Leela stretched out on the couch and slid her hands behind her head. "I think I might know one."

Phil smiled again and then briefly laughed, until a particularly bright star caught his eye. He stared at it with watery eyes, lost in whatever memory the star had brought back to him. Leela slipped from the couch and made her way back to the pilot's seat, leaving Phil by himself to stare at the bright depths.

"I miss her," he said after a few minutes. And then: "It hurts."

"It's what makes us human," Leela answered quietly as she watched the new sun rise over the distant horizon.

* * *

Fry flew up out of the parabox with a loud yelp, swinging his arms for balance as he swept into the air, and almost immediately hit the ceiling. He seemed to hang in the air for just long enough to wonder if perhaps all those old cartoons had been true before he plummeted toward the floor, to land in a painful heap at the foot of the store-room shelves.

The box stood atop the shelves again, tilted toward the ground – and Fry – in a worrying satire of their previous journey. Fry barely had time to even laugh at the repeated events before Leela came flying out straight at him, sort of like that dream he kept having only much, much faster. He whimpered and closed his eyes.

It wasn't quite as painful this time.

"Sorry, Fry," Leela muttered as she lifted herself up from his prone form. Fry tried to give what he hoped was a comforting reply but which came out as more of a wheezing cough. He flopped over onto his side. It was easier than trying to stay upright. For some reason the gun lying on the floor next to his head was incredibly fascinating.

Somewhere along the way Leela must have removed his rebreather and mask, though he couldn't really recall when. Had he been asleep? It seemed likely, sleep was one of his favourite occupations after all. He sat up at the sound of Bender's clunking footsteps and smiled. "Home at last... hey Bender."

"Fry." Bender looked down at his friend with a robot's best attempt at puzzlement gracing his otherwise immobile features. "You've been gone since yesterday. Not that I'm worried about you or anything," he added just a little too quickly.

Fry smiled as he pushed himself to his feet. Bender, good old Bender, always there to lend a friendly laugh and a helping gripper. Well... maybe just the laugh.

"Have you seen Leela?"

"Oh sure, she was on the ship bossing everyone around like she always does. If you axe me she needs to chill out a bit."

"She's had a hard life," Fry said quietly. He put his hands in his pockets and then turned to Bender with a frown. Something had changed about him. "Oh, hey, you got your head fixed already? That was fast."

"Got my what? Are you huffing altair baccy or something, Fry?"

"Never mind," Fry said, smiling to hide his confusion. Maybe Bender just decided he didn't want to keep the memory of being shot in the face. Fry sometimes wished he could do that, erase a few memories, maybe even replace them with something else. It'd make things easier. He winced as another twinge of pain washed through his head.

"You all right, Fry?"

"Sure, I just bumped my head."

"As long as you don't collapse and leave me to load the ship all by myself. That's what big boots told me to tell you, by the way. To load the ship."

"Right..." Normally Fry would have complained about it but not today, when he could see just how great his life really was for him right now. Even his worst days hadn't been so bad, really, and at least he had friends. Even if they did wail on him now and then, he thought as he glanced at Bender. The ever-present cigar was back in place as the robot wandered along the boxes, tapping each one in turn. Fry looked at the paraboxes piled high around him and the smile he wore shrunk just a little, replaced by an eager determination to get the boxes as far away from himself as possible. Without another word, and much to Bender's confusion, Fry started dragging boxes to the loader as fast as he was physically able.

"Fry, buddy, you're making even less sense than normal _and_ you're _working._ You sure you're all right?"

"Couldn't be better!"

* * *

Leela looked up at the re-assuring clatter of the hangar doors as they slowly drew back to reveal a crisp blue sky. For a while she simply stood basking in the bright heat of the sun with her eye closed, letting the warmth – so powerful compared to the dull world they'd left behinds – soak into her skin as if she were some sort of lizard basking on a rock. It was comforting enough that she almost managed to forget the last two days. Almost.

The doors screeched to to a halt at the end of their tracks, rocking slightly as they settled into place, snapping Leela out of her reverie. She looked around and up at the ship where Fry was, surprisingly, already unloading a large pile of boxes onto the cargo lift. She waved to him before walking up to the conference room to find the others, hoping she'd catch Hermes in a good enough mood to keep her job.

Surprisingly enough Hermes wasn't there, even though she'd know him to sit waiting for days on end to complete paperwork in the past. On the bright side the map was waiting on the table, neatly folded with a printed set of instructions for inputting its coordinates into the ship's computer, which meant they probably hadn't been fired yet. Leela scribbled a note to Hermes and stuck it to the conference table in front of his usual seat before returning to the hangar, where Fry had just finished loading the cargo lift.

"How many?"

"Two thousand, give or take," Fry said, wiping his hands together.

"Six trips. It looks like each one is about three days out and back again." Leela held the map up to the light and examined it in more detail, twisting it this way and that to see how sure her calculations were. "Well... could be worse, I guess."

"Yeah." Fry rubbed the toe of his shoe against the floor. "I could use a shower... can I borrow one of your towels?"

"Ehh, sure, you deserve a break once in a while. But go get Bender first so we can get this over with as quickly as possible."

Leela gave Fry a bright smile and activated the cargo lift, which quickly ascended into the belly of the ship. Fry turned away, ready to retrace his steps to the storeroom when Bender emerged, carrying one of the boxes above his head. He trotted over to Fry and thrust the box into his face.

"Fry, you wanna sneak into this universe and loot it a bit?"

"You asked me that yesterday."

"I did?" Bender gave the box a puzzled glance then watched Fry's retreating back as he walked toward the ship. He shook his head as he made his way back to the storeroom, a single question stuck in an annoying loop around his mind.

"When?"

Fry found Leela wandering around the flight deck, rubbing her head with one hand while she lifted up various loose panels with the other. He sat down at his console and listened to Leela's muttering for a while, until it got boring and he had to say something.

"Missing something?"

"The keys. I could have sworn I'd put them in the ship before we left."

"Maybe Amy has them," Fry said, pointing out at the conference area. Leela looked across the bridge at him, then at the conference area, where Amy had settled into a seat facing the ship with her arms folded across her chest.

"I_ guess_ she could have tidied up while we were away," she said, slowly rubbing her chin. Amy couldn't see them inside the ship, that much was obvious, but she was staring intently at the cockpit. For some reason she didn't look happy at all.

"Lie in McDonalds?"

"MacDuff..."

"Oh. Right."

Before making her way off the bridge Leela gave it one last look, not quite sure why she felt so out of place.

* * *

Amy stood up the moment Leela reached the top of the stairs, advancing toward her with undisguised resentment. She held out the ship's keys, dangling them at arms length in front of Leela's face.

"Looking for these?"

"Yeah," Leela said, reaching for the keys. Amy snatched them out of reach. "What's got into you?"

"Gleesh! You know exactly what's wrong, Leela!"

"Actually I don't," Leela said as she slid into one of the seats. Fry wandered past her and leaned on the rail. Amy stared at Leela with a look of pure disbelief. She held up the keys as she sat down opposite Leela; they clattered to the table's top a moment later.

"Stop playing games, Leela. You just can't stand that I might be able to fly the ship as well as you. That's why you came back early, isn't it?"

"Early? Amy, I don't know what-"

"Do you know how much influence it takes to get a honeymoon suite at the Vatican Hilton? Do you know how many favours I had to pull in for you? I had to fill in _forms!_ Me!"

Leela and Fry shared a look. Complete confusion was normal for Fry but now Leela thought she might have an idea of how he felt. "Amy... what are you talking about?"

"Yeah, what honeymoon suite?" Fry finally sat down. If anything his confusion had only grown deeper. "Did I miss, like, a memo or something?"

"_Ai yah_, I can't _believe_ you two!"

Amy stormed off at the head of a trail of Martian expletives that only cut off when the door slid gently closed behind her. And for some reason that caught Leela's attention, more than anything else, as being incredibly wrong. She looked around the conference area as she tried to work out what was going on until her eye came to rest on the deep red surface of the conference table. Deep, burgundy red.

"Oh no..."

Fry looked at Leela with a curious expression but, before he could say anything, the far slid open again and Amy returned, still muttering her constant stream of invective as she lead Hermes and Professor Farnsworth toward the conference table. Normally the sight of Hermes approaching with the expression he wore now meant there would be a need to clean ink from at least three fingers and one other appendage before the hour was up but, then, normally he would have been carrying an attaché case rather than a vicious looking laser rifle. Farnsworth pulled a pistol from his pocket as they approached, moving with more speed than his decrepit frame would suggest.

He had Leela in his sights before she could even stand up. Hermes levelled his rifle at Fry.

"Okay, now I just got off the phone wid the nice people at the Vatican Hilton and they said you two was quite firmly established in the honeymoon suite. Yet here you are."

Fry held up his hand. "This whole honeymoon suite thing..."

"Quiet, Fry," Leela muttered, easing herself out of her seat. She tried to smile at Hermes but it was hard; the gun made her nervous. "Look... this has all been a terrible misunderstanding."

"You're right about that," Hermes said as he pressed his thumb against the rifle's safety catch. The gun whined as its capacitors started to charge. "Be careful, mon, they could be dangerous."

Farnsworth held a scanning device up with his free hand and approached them warily. He waved the device over Leela's frame, all the while keeping the pistol pointed at her head.

"It's true. Their quantum signature is out of sync with ours."

"They were trying to steal the ship," Amy said, pointing at Leela. "I say we blow the tyen-sah duh uh-muo back to hell!"

Leela blanched. She didn't need a translator program to figure that one out. "Amy?"

"Quiet, you... you, doo gway... whatever you are!"

The whining of Hermes's rifle faded into the ultrasonic at about the same time as a green light started to flash on its butt. The bureaucrat glanced at his gun.

"So are they the same, Professor?"

"Ohh they're evil all right," Farnsworth exclaimed as he adjusted the scanner. He held it toward Leela again. "The question is, _how_ evil?"

"Doo gway! Uh muo!"

"We have to test them," Farnsworth continued, completely ignoring Amy's outbursts. He tapped his cheek as he thought. "Perhaps some combination of holy water and a cattle prod would suffice..."

That settled it. Leela edged away from the table to give herself more space, raising her hands at the same time to try and put the others more at ease. She glanced at Amy; the young intern was staring hate at Leela, repeating the same two words under her breath over and over and clutching at some pendant around her neck. She'd never seen her friend – or at least a facsimile of her friend – so worked up over anything in her life.

"Amy?"

"_Demon!_" Amy elbowed the Professor aside and tried to wrestle Hermes' gun from his grasp. The simple wooden cross around her neck clunked against the rifle's composite casing as they fought for possession of the gun, with Amy screaming curses at Leela and Hermes and anyone else she could name in the heat of her anger.

"Fry, for god's sake, run!"

She needn't have bothered. Fry had already bolted over the rail; Leela heard his muffled yelp as he hit the floor at an awkward angle. At about the same time Amy managed to wrest the gun from Hermes' grip only to be thrown off balance by the sudden shift in momentum. The gun fired of it's own accord when it hit the floor, blowing a huge chunk out of the conference table and Leela, seeing an opportunity, ducked away and vaulted over the rail.

She found Fry hobbling toward the storerooms, too slow to make it before Amy got her footing again. Leela grabbed his collar and practically flung him over her shoulder as she belted for the door. A laser blast sizzled past her ear as she reached the corner and cut a black burn across the concrete floor. Flinging Fry inside, Leela turned at the storeroom door to see Amy perched at the top of the stairs, eyes almost aglow with righteous anger as she struggled with the slow-charging gun. Amy swore and thumped her hand against the weapon's casing in frustration when it refused to fire. Leela took the opportunity to duck inside the room. She slammed the door closed and ran into the store's interior.

Something tripped her and skittered across the floor whilst Leela managed to stumble to a halt against the shelves. She looked back to see the gun she had brought from the previous universe lying against a sealed box, then looked around at the high-stacked shelves; almost all the boxes were sealed shut, a fact she hadn't noticed before, prompting the thought that perhaps her alternate here had been a little more careful. Or perhaps the simple belief that all the other universes were evil had been enough.

Leela picked up the weapon and made her way back through the room, seeking out Fry and a box to escape into. She found him cowering at the far end of the room behind a stack of empty storage racks.

"We're boned," was all he could say. Leela was inclined to agree but she forced the thought aside as she grabbed Fry's arm and dragged him over to the next row of shelves. Why, she had no idea, but at least she was doing _something_. Unfortunately Amy picked that moment to turn up at the far end of the room, waving the gun in the air. She spotted Leela right away and aimed the gun at her without hesitating.

"Amy, wait!"

"Quiet, demon! You thought you could steal my soul but you were wrong!"

"I'm not-" Leela ducked as Amy fired again, knowing it was useless if Amy was in any way a decent shot. She wasn't. The beam arced harmlessly over Leela's head, burning a hole in the far wall, filling the room with a stink of burned paint and scorched composite.

Muttering a silent prayer of thanks to any gods that might be listening Leela tightened her grip on Fry's arm, turned and ran down the length of the nearest shelving stack for the far side of the storeroom. She ducked to her left at the end and ran onward, Fry stumbling behind like a puppy on too-short a leash.

Up ahead, she saw a shadow – _please let it be someone else!_ - and to her relief Bender emerged carrying a box; crucially, _a box with the lid off_. Leela yelled, triumphant, moments before a laser beam burned across her shoulder.

She screamed, more in shock than pain, and let Fry tumble to the floor. Ignoring the pain in her back Leela turned and let a shot rip back down the corridor at Amy, who yelped in surprise and ducked back behind the boxes, still swearing every other word. She lifted Fry up by his coat and half turned toward Bender.

"Hey big boots, what's going on?"

"Nothing," Leela snapped. She grabbed Fry with both hands, her grip a little awkward around his coat and the gun, and bodily hauled him through the box before he could protest. "Get out of here Bender. Amy's gone nuts."

"Aww, she's always nuts," Bender muttered as he watched Leela's feet disappear into the box. Without knowing why he did it, Bender slid the box back onto a shelf and scampered from the store before Amy could find him.


	7. Episode One: Epilogue

She fell out of the box again and, in what seemed to be turning into a nasty habit, landed on Fry again. He was out cold already so didn't notice her impact, which was _probably_ a good thing, though she was sure he'd have a nasty bruise tomorrow.

Leela stared up at the box, gun trained on its wide opening as she waited for something, anything to appear. A moment, a moment more until, with a flood of relief she realised that they probably wouldn't be following her through. The gun slipped from her grasp and clattered on the floor like a cheap plastic toy as she fell back against the neatly stacked shelves. Leela slid down to the floor and put her head in her hands. Her shoulder throbbed painfully but when she reached over to touch it she could only feel a very slight welt, and the relative amount of pain told her that it was at worst a bad surface burn. All she could do was assume Amy had forgotten to turn the power up past 'sizzle'.

So that was it, then. Unless by some miracle they found a way home, she and Fry were stuck in some crazy parallel universe forever. Leela looked over at Fry's huddled form, still unconscious and probably not any better for being dropped from a great height three times in as many days. She reached toward him and shook his shoulder to try and bring him around.

Leela mused on the possibility of a concussion until Fry rolled over onto his back and began to snore. She couldn't help herself then. She laughed, loud and hard, because laughing was better thinking about the alternatives. Eventually the laughter died away, subsiding into silent contemplation as she watched Fry sleeping.

"You just rest there then..." she straightened up Fry's coat, tugging his collar up around his neck to keep out the cold, and then stood up. A slightly breeze ruffled her hair as the door opened, with the inevitable arrival of this universe's crew as they came to investigate the racket she and Fry had made on their entrance. Leela turned toward them and put on her best smile.

Her smile faltered when she saw a strange man enter the room. He froze, right inside the door, and stared at her in surprise but didn't say anything. Leela held up her hand in a faint attempt at a wave.

"Uh... hi."

"What are you doing in here?"

"Oh... you know..." Leela shrugged and tried to smile but it didn't really work. The man took a stop toward her, confusion and not a little anger clouding his face as he look Leela up and down. From this distance she realised he actually looked very familiar. She narrowed her eye as she tried to figure out where she'd seen the man before.

Fry snorted loudly and sat up.

"Woah... what a nightmare _that_ was." He stood up, hands over his eyes as he rubbed sleep and dirt from his face. "Are we home yet?"

He looked up at her and smiled. Before Leela could answer the stranger pushed past her and grabbed hold of Fry's shoulders.

"Phil?" The man's mouth opened in a wide 'O', eyes wider still as he looked into Fry's face, tears forming in his eyes. "Phil is that you? Oh god, I thought I'd never see you again..."

"Wait, I-"

"Phil, it _is_ you!"

Fry's face went pale as the man threw his arms around his shoulders and hugged him tight. He looked over the other man's shoulder at Leela, then struggled out of the bear-hug and held the stranger at arm's length, struggling to speak for a moment as they stared at each other.

"Yancy?"


	8. Episode 2: Where I Belong

**Parallel Lives Episode Two: Where I Belong**

_I've wished a million wishes on a big empty sky_

_And I've spent too many endless nights alone_

_Wondering if I was broken and why everything felt so wrong_

_And where do I belong_

- Rachel Proctor

* * *

The ship was bright red. It was strange, the things you noticed, little details like the fact that the boxes in this universe were pale green, and the walls were a slightly darker shade than he was used to, but the ship... Fry stared up at it, recalling their own version of the ship in a similar colour when his great great etc. nephew's clone 'son', the annoying one with the brains and the attitude, had managed to take over the company for a few weeks. Bright red, like his jacket only shinier. The regular Planet Express logo looked a little odd on top of that.

It had a green stripe, too.

"Huh..." Fry turned away from it and sought out Yancy, who stood a few feet away along the side of the hangar with Leela. He was silent, staring at Fry with a deep and worried expression on his face and his mouth hanging half-open as if he were on the verge of mooing like a cow. Fry honestly tried not to laugh at the thought and even managed to squeeze it down to a quiet snort. Yancy heard it, though.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing," Fry muttered, looking at the floor like he always ended up doing around his brother.

Yancy. Fry couldn't understand why he didn't feel anything at seeing his brother, alive and in the flesh, after... what, four years? Five? Or a thousand... Yancy, the brother, the tormentor. The ratfink bastard who'd stolen his clover and then made himself impossible to hate by naming his son Philip.

Had he done that here?

It was a question that would have to wait. Yancy turned to look at Fry again, the brief moment of compassion he'd shown in the storeroom a memory already, replaced with the familiar, distant and overbearing older brother Fry remembered from the old days.

"All right, look, this is crazy. How did you get here? And Leela, what are you doing here so early? Did you find him?"

"What...?" Fry looked over at Leela, sharing her look of utter confusion.

"Early?"

"For the weekly assessment," Yancy said, rubbing the back of his head. He looked Leela up and down, frowning. "The one where you come along, watch me working for an hour and then tell me I'm still depressed and need more counselling but not depressed enough to justify giving me a new career chip."

Leela shrugged. Yancy turned slightly, frustration pulling his shoulders tight as he looked around the hangar.

"Is this some sort of new test? Are they trying to send me crazy now?" He looked at Fry with one eyebrow racing up his forehead. "Maybe I'm just seeing things then. Maybe I am crazy. It'd explain a lot."

"You aren't crazy..."

Leela's voice trailed off as she watched Yancy shuffle away across the hangar toward the conference area, shoulders hanging in defeat, or depression, or something else beginning with 'de'. He paused and looked back at Fry with a frown, then turned to face him at the foot of the stairs, arms folded across his chest, not moving away but coming no nearer. Every now and then his brow would rise up and twist in confusion before returning to the half-frown Fry remembered as the norm.

"Issues," Leela said, shaking her head. "Was... is he always like this?"

"Yeah, pretty much, though he wouldn't have said anything about being nuts." And as for issues... Fry let the thought trail away as he turned from Leela to watch his brother. He tried smiling but Yancy didn't smile back, or even acknowledge him. Typical.

Leela, hands on hips, let out a frustrated breath. "We'd better go explain things before someone decides to shoot at us again."

"Right," Fry mumbled, reflexively wiggling his ankle, which was still a little sore after their previous escape. That made at least two women who wanted to kill him now.

Without thinking he started walking across the hangar toward the lockers, intending to grab his things for the journey home. Fry pulled up short, realising as he glanced around the uncomfortably different hangar, up at the wrong-coloured ship, that 'home' was probably a very long distance now. And then there was Yancy. That would be the way to go, he thought, walking toward the steps, drawn by the only truly familiar thing in the entire building besides Leela.

"We should find the Professor," Leela said at his shoulder. Fry looked at her and shrugged.

"I guess."

"If anyone can find us a way home, he can."

"Yeah," Fry said, not quite listening. Yancy had turned away again and was making his way up the stairs. Fry and Leela both set off toward the conference area, though with different ultimate destinations in mind. At the foot of the stairs Leela suddenly stopped and turned to look at the ship.

"Weird to think I'm not even working here," she said quietly, almost staring right through the ship at some distant point in the sky, until the sound of heavy footsteps on the stairs distracted her from whatever reverie she had entered. "I wonder who's here instead?"

"Uh..." Fry nodded wiggled his shoulder at a man descending the stairs before backing off a little. The man paused a step from the bottom and lifted a battered ex-army cap to scratch his head as he regarded Leela. He looked familiar.

"Early today, Sirochka? I won't ask what possessed you to do that to your hair ." The cap flopped back onto his bald head and the man passed by, whistling Mull of Kintyre as he wandered toward the ship, evidently content to leave the observation at that. Fry stood next to Leela as they watched the man ascend the ship's gangway and disappear into her gaping airlock.

"Isn't that the guy from..."

"Yeah," Fry said, frowning as he recalled the uptight foreign sounding clerk he'd introduced to a chair. "You don't think he remembers me hitting him, do you?"

"Parallel universes don't work that way, Fry."

"Right, right..." Fry stared up at the ship for a moment before turning back to the conference area to find Yancy.

Leela followed him up the stairs, though she seemed to be a little annoyed that someone else was flying 'her' ship, as if that was all that mattered compared to the knowledge that he was dead in this universe. Somewhere, maybe not even that far away, there was a skeleton lying under a grave marker with his name on it, which was decidedly creepy. Fry felt a cold chill work its way up his spine as he thought about it. He wondered how easy it would be to find out what he'd done with his life. Had he done anything?

The conference area looked about the same as it always had, though there were some differences, such as a large coffee machine built into the wall by the big screen. The chairs looked much more comfortable too, their headrests decorated by a logo of a stylised animal head wearing some sort of spiky collar with something written on it.

"Ambulance aye... you... barry?" Fry stepped back from the seat. The phrase seemed strangely familiar but he couldn't place it. He put it out of his mind instead.

Yancy sat facing the ship, hands palm-down on the conference table and a vague, worried expression pulling at his features. He didn't react when Fry and Leela rounded the table toward him, or when Fry sat down a couple of seats around the table from him; he just stared at the ship, rubbing his fingers against the table surface in a repetitive circling motion that Fry quickly found annoying.

A door across the conference area hissed quietly aside to admit Hermes and Amy – her tracksuit was blue, some part of Fry's brain noted with interest – deep in conversation about something. They halted when they saw Leela; Hermes held out a hand in greeting. "Early today, Miss Turanga?"

"Uh... yeah." Leela glanced at Fry and then back at Hermes. Amy's face suddenly lit up with surprise.

"When did you decide to change your hair?"

"My... my hair?" Leela's fingers brushed against her hair. She forced her hand down and shook her head. "Listen, uh... Hermes... Mr Conrad, I need to speak to the Professor."

"Oh?" Hermes glanced at Amy and then nodded slightly. "He's just having his mid-morning nap but you and your friend here can wait in the employee lounge if you like."

He held out his hand and Leela almost reached toward it, until she she the forms. She plucked the slim plastic sheets from Hermes' outstretched hand and held them up to the light.

"Just a simple visitor liability waiver, nothin you haven't signed before," Hermes said with a puzzled but friendly smile. He indicated toward Fry and then produced a pen, almost as if by magic, which Leela took without a word. "Now, if you could explain how you managed to get into the buildin without ringin the bell...?"

"Uh..."

"I let them in," Yancy said, finally tearing his gaze away from the ship. He glanced at Fry and Leela, then looked at Hermes and tried to smile. It didn't work.

"If you say so." Hermes raised his eyebrows a little but, if he had any misgivings about Yancy's reply, he didn't let them show. He took the waivers Fry and Leela had signed and rolled from the room, humming to himself. Amy watched him leave before turning to Leela with a broad smile on her face.

"Coffee?"

"Uh... sure," Leela said, falling into step behind Amy as she walked toward the employee lounge.

"Who's your friend? He's cute."

The door hissed shut before Fry could hear Leela's reply, which could have been very good or very bad, all things considered. He hovered by the table for a minute, waiting for Yancy to say something to him but his brother had returned to staring at the ship. His fingers slid about the surface of the table; Fry noticed a faint circular pattern on the table-top under Yancy's hands, slightly indented where his fingers swam across the sheer surface.

"So... you... work here?"

Yancy's fingers paused for a moment, then continued their rhythmic motion. "Yep."

Fry sat down again, gripping the edge of the table as if it were about to fly away. This wasn't the Yancy he remembered, calm and, if not collected, then at least a little way toward being sane. As sane as anyone could be in their family, anyway.

"Are you real?" He was looking at Fry again with wide, fearful eyes, as if worried Fry would suddenly evaporate. And strange that Fry still didn't feel anything about actually seeing his brother alive and well. It felt almost like he was in a dream. Perhaps that last crack on the head had been more serious than he'd realised, Fry thought, rubbing his temples.

"I'm pretty sure I'm real."

"But how did you get here?"

Yancy was staring intently at him now, his fear subdued by curiosity and even a little anger, though Fry figured he was probably just seeing things. He stood up; Yancy followed a moment later, roughly grabbing Fry's arm before he could walk away.

"Phil, I asked you a question."

Phil again. It was weird hearing that name. "I got here the same way you did."

"That doesn't make any sense. If you were in the..." Yancy let go of Fry's arm, suddenly very pale. "You were in that place with me? You could have let me out!"

"No I wasn't. Look, Leela can explain it better than me, go ask her."

"Maybe you..."

Yancy shut his mouth, shaking his head as he turned back to staring at the ship, his fingers tracing their slow circle on the table-top again. Fry couldn't quite believe what he was seeing. He sat down and watched his brother for any sign this might be some sort of prolonged practical joke but there was nothing.

After a few minutes he heard a clumping step on the stairs and turned, expecting to see Leela ascending from the hangar, realising that was stupid even as the thought finished forming in his head. The pilot clerk, or whatever he was here, halted at the top of the stairs and pushed his hat back as he fixed his eyes on Yancy.

"Hey Yanchovich, get your sassanach ass down to the stores, we're leaving in an hour!"

"Yes, Vek..."

Yancy levered himself up from the chair and shuffled past the pilot toward the hangar, pausing once near the stairs to look blankly at Fry before he left. The pilot watched him go, muttering something foreign under his breath and shaking his head. He turned to look at Fry with a slightly puzzled expression and then smiled, holding out his hand as he walked toward the table.

"Veklerov," he said, taking Fry's hand in his own. Fry smiled, uncertain and wishing he'd followed Leela. For some reason he had an urge to hit the guy again.

"Is that, like, a greeting or something?"

The man laughed and shook his head. "It's my name! Veklerov Evanovich McDiarmid. Vek to my friends and crewmates. You may call me Veklerov Evanovich."

"Philip Fry," Fry said, trying to extract his hand from the pilot's grip. Veklerov's eyebrows made a valiant attempt to crawl under his hat at the mention of Fry's name but he didn't seem keen to add anything. Instead he put his arm over Fry's shoulder and smiled.

"Tell me, Philip Fry, what do you think of our lovely Leela Sirochka?"

"I... uh... are you Scottish?"

Veklerov seemed to ponder this for a moment before smiling at Fry again. "My father was a Scot, my mother was Russian. I am... both, I suppose." He took Fry's shoulder and started guiding him toward the employee lounge. "Now tell me about you and Leela. She is your lover, yes?"

"What? No! We... we're... well it's not like that," Fry said as the door slid open. "I mean yeah, I wish it was, but-"

"-right as a friend but frankly he's just so immature, I can't see anything working." Leela turned her back on Amy as the door opened. She started at the sight of Fry. "Oh... uh... Hi."

Leela's face turned pink and she looked away at her toes before pushing past Fry and Veklerov toward the conference area. Fry shrugged Veklerov's arm from his shoulder and glanced at the pilot, then at Amy.

"I see she is the same as ever." Veklerov pulled at his hat. "Philip. Amy."

He stepped past Amy into the employee lounge, chattering to himself in heavily accented Russian as he adjusted his hat and jacket. Then, with the door closed again, the background hum of traffic was all Fry could hear for a moment as he looked around the hangar, before finally settling his gaze on Amy.

"Hi."

"Hello." Amy smiled a little shyly at him and, for a moment, he wondered why. Then he remembered that they'd never had their brief fling in this universe. Or even met. Fry glanced over at Leela's retreating form, then back at Amy with a strange, confused train of thought smashing through his head like a... a strange, confused train.

"Hi, I'm-"

"Philip Fry," Amy finished for him. Fry narrowed his eyes a little at that, it seemed like everyone was finishing his sentences for him these days. Maybe they were all telepathic or something. Amy smiled at him again with her head tilted to one side, playfully. It was one of the little things she'd done to attract him last time.

"Leela was just telling me you're related to Yancy, like, his brother or something?"

"Yeah."

Amy's eyebrows drew toward each other just a little. She twisted her toe on the floor, putting on the 'cute' look Fry had seen her use so many times to get what she wanted. "You're not... like him, are you?"

"If you mean am I a stuck up, arrogant, no-good, bossy-"

She put her finger on his mouth and smiled again, her expression warmer and less guarded this time. Fry saw her eyes flicker up and down him, almost like she were weighing up a piece of meat, which felt a little weird. "I get it. I guess you'll be around for a while now. Wanna hang out some time?"

Something went 'click' inside Fry's head as his admittedly slow-moving logic reached its ultimate conclusion. They were stuck. Nobody knew him. The thought was strangely unnerving, moreso considering that he had already realised that he was... dead. Which was weird.

Then again, he thought as he looked Amy up and down, there were some upsides. But then his gaze irresistibly drew back over his shoulder toward Leela, stood out at the railing, staring at the ship with a distant look of longing on her face. He looked down at Amy's sweet face and smiled. "I can't, I don't know how long I'll be here for."

"Oh. Well... let me know if you change your mind," she said, walking her fingers up his arm. Fry shivered at the touch and carefully backed away, still smiling. Amy tossed her eyebrows and tilted her head before she turned back to the employee lounge. She paused just before the door closed, turned slightly and winked at him over her shoulder. And then she was gone. Fry shivered again as he turned away from the doorway to find Leela.

He reached her at about the same time Hermes did, bearing another slip of paper and his usual dour expression. The bureaucrat nodded to Fry, then peeked at the paper before slipping it into his pocket.

"Okay, the professor seems to have woken up early so if you'll just come with me to the lab..."

Hermes held his hand out toward the stairs at the far end of the conference area and even managed to give them both a wan smile, which disappeared as promptly as it had arrived. Leela blinked, almost in a daze, and turned to follow Hermes without a word.


	9. Chapter 9

The lab was normal. Normal, of course, meaning that there was a wide array of bizarre equipment and half-completed experiments lying around the place, accompanied by odd stains, strange smells and a worryingly empty cage in the far corner of the room. A small machine sat on a workbench by the far wall, a single wheel embedded in one side the only visible moving part. Something about the wheel looked wrong, though, as if it was turning in more than one direction at the same time and, when Fry tried to look at it, his eyes kept shifting off to one side. After a few tries he gave up and looked elsewhere. Behind the machine a white parabolic dish faced a nasty black scorch-mark on another wall and beyond that a small pile of silvery-black rods sat in a small cradle. The machine emitted a loud plink and ejected another one of the rods into the cradle where it sat, smoking slightly, as it cooled down from whatever process had created it.

Normal, like he'd thought. Fry leaned against one of the benches for a moment as they waited, until something started scrabbling at his back. He very carefully stood up again, moved across the room and stood next to Leela without ever turning to look at whatever had tried to grab his coat. Knowing what it was wouldn't make things any better.

They stood, waiting in the peculiar silence of the lab for a few minutes, lost in their respective thoughts. Now and then Fry would glance at Leela's face, trying to discern what she was thinking- he'd read the word in a dictionary a few days ago when he was bored – with little success. She seemed to have shut herself off completely.

The door hissed and the Professor entered, giving Fry his first real surprise.

"Professor?"

"Yes... who's asking?"

Professor Farnsworth stared at Fry from beneath a cotton-thin gauze of bright red hair that hung over his brow in a tangled fringe. His face looked... wrong; almost the same, which wasn't surprising given his age, but something about his nose...

The Professor's presence seemed to snap Leela out of her trance. She gently eased Fry to one side and stepped forward.

"Good morning Professor."

"Ahh... Miss Turanga..." Farnsworth peered at Leela's face, though he kept stealing glances toward Fry. He was frowning as he spoke. "You're rather early today, aren't you? And what on earth have you done to your hair?"

"I... suppose so... how do I put this?"

"We're from another universe!" Fry blurted. Leela shot him a stern glance but Fry didn't care. She would have spent the better part of a day edging around it, and right now he wasn't in the mood for that sort of yammering.

Farnsworth frowned at Fry again, before shuffling toward one of his workbenches to retrieve a complicated looking scanner device which he turned first to Leela, then on Fry. It wasn't, Fry noticed, the usual device Farnsworth seemed to use for such things, being much more stylish in some indefinable way. The Professor waved the scanner at his own head.

"I see..." Farnsworth peered at the screen, adjusted a few dials and then waved it at Leela again. "Yes... it's true, your quantum resonance signature is out of sync."

"You aren't going to say we're evil, are you?"

"Oh my no." Farnsworth put the device down, mumbling to himself as he did so. He brushed a wisp of hair from his eyes, still frowning as he looked at Fry through his far-too-thick glasses. "I suppose it had to happen eventually, given how long the paraboxes have been there and how many of them I made. But why," he added, waving another scanner at Fry, "did you decide come through?"

"It was that or have our heads cooked off by..." Leela cut herself off as Amy wandered past the lab door, humming quietly to herself as she carried a bucket of a strange, glowing liquid down the corridor. "Well, we didn't have much of a choice, let's put it that way."

"I see..." Farnsworth held the scanner up to Leela again, frowning. He turned it on Fry once more before placing it carefully on the workbench.

"According to my giztronulator there are traces of a second distinct quantum signature within your bodies, enough to tell me you've spent some length of time in more than one universe already, and possibly eaten some junk-food."

Leela and Fry both muttered their agreement.

"I had a danish," Fry added. The Professor was silent for a moment, contemplating new data, or perhaps just digesting a meal – they both looked the same to Fry, never particularly able to distinguish the Professor's mental states, even less so now his face looked so wrong, and yet, somehow, familiar. He felt his eyes drawn back to the red ship and his brother labouring somewhere within it.

"Hey, wait a minute, if Yancy is... how..." Fry's voice faded with the sudden overwhelming realisation of what was going on. "You're not my nephew here?"

"Oh how silly. No, if you really are that young know-all's brother then it would appear that I'm your great, great to some crazy power grandson."

"Woah..."

"Yes, that was my thought too." Farnsworth turned back to his workbench and extracted yet another device from a drawer. He held the gadget up and began adjusting one of the dials on its surface. "It's quite a shock to find out what your ancestors were actually like. How someone like you ever founded Seymour and Butes Holdings I'll never know. I'm amazed I can even talk without drooling," he added over his shoulder.

He turned and pressed the device against Fry's upturned hand. Fry yelped at the sudden stinging pain in his palm and drew his arm back. The device beeped. Farnsworth glared at it with barely disguised contempt and threw it back in the drawer. "Yes... it would appear I am indeed your direct descendent. Remarkable..."

"Hey, stop talking about me like I'm an idiot!" Fry looked to Leela for support but she just folded her arms and rolled her eye. His resolve faltered for a moment. "I mean... I, look, that's not fair. Leela, tell him I'm not... I'm not that dumb..."

"Fry, this is hardly the time to argue about how dumb you are."

"I think it's a perfect time to argue about it! You all keep treating me like I'm just some stupid kid, but I know it doesn't have to be that way now, even if he did play flight simulators!"

Farnsworth frowned at Fry, pushing aside his fringe of hair again. "What are you blathering about now?"

"It doesn't matter!" Fry kneaded his forehead with the ball of his thumb as he tried to think of some way to argue with them. Maybe they had a point, at that? No... no that wasn't right. He opened his eyes and looked at Leela again, looking for some sign of support, but all he saw was vague pity.

"We'll talk about this later, Fry."

"Right, sure," Fry muttered, shoving his hands in his pockets as he leaned back against another workbench. Leela took a breath, but waited a moment as the Professor wandered around his lab, pushing equipment back and forth and poking at his experiments with an absent-minded interest until he reached a bank of computers on the back wall. He watched the lights flickering for a few moments.

"All right, what do you want?"

Farnsworth turned his back on the computer, staring at Leela with senile interest. An extractor fan chattered into life somewhere overhead as Leela remained silent for a while longer, seeming to struggle with her reply.

"We need your help," she eventually said.

"Of course you do. Everyone in this place always needs my help for something. Professor, my legs have fallen off. Professor, we need a new microwave! Oh Professor, the flow inverter coils on the ship you built need replacing or it'll explode! But do they ever thank me?"

The door thumped back, making all three jump in surprise, as Amy leaned into the lab with a broad smile on her face. "Professor! I so completely forgot to say thanks for that new automatic eyelash plucker and make-up applicator machine you made for me!"

She skipped across the lab and planted a kiss on Farnsworth's forehead. He blushed slightly and looked away, abashed at the sudden attention.

"Well it, it was nothing really, I just had a few spare parts from a killbot lying around and..."

He looked up at Leela and Fry's bemused stares. "What? This doesn't alter my point! Whatever it was!"

Amy gave the pair a perplexed look but it only lasted a moment. She thanked the Professor again and turned to leave, only pausing at the door to look at Fry.

"Offer's still open..." She glanced at Leela, then winked at Fry and left the room. Fry couldn't resist a small grin, though it faded after a moment as he felt Leela's stare burning into the back of his head. Fry blew out his cheeks and then sighed, refusing to look at Leela. He heard her make a similar gesture accompanied by the creak of a stool being drawn out from under a workbench as she sat down.

Farnsworth's resigned look said just about everything that needed to be said.

"All right, what?"

"We need to get back to our own universe."

"I see... I suppose simply retracing your steps would be out of the question?" Farnsworth waited for Leela's confirmation before he turned away, contemplating the computer again. He picked up a digital notepad and started jotting on it. "Very well, the first option would be to scan all of our paraboxes to see if your unique quantum signature matches any of them. Failing that, we'd have to find some way of navigating towards a universe more likely to hold a portal back to your own."

He added to his notes with a final flourish and turned back to face them with a broad grin. Fry didn't like the look of that grin. It was the sort of look the Professor got when he was coming up with a creative new way to destroy a large chunk of the immediate universe.

"Of course this could take quite a while." Farnsworth shuffled around the lab. He paused at the rod-dispensing machine and prodded a few parts of it with his pen. "The scanning of our own stored boxes will take about three days once I've created a suitable scanning device. If that fails to produce the result you're after, well, I imagine you'll need to find somewhere to stay for a while at least. Remarkable," he added, peering at Fry again and adjusting his glasses slightly. He gave Fry's head a curious poke with his pen.

"Hey, cut it out!"

"I shall have Hermes call a general meeting. Leela, your, ah, 'counterpart' will be here shortly. Perhaps it is worth introducing you two. It would allow me to make a more detailed map of your quantum resonance pattern if I have a local baseline to compare it to."

"If it stops people talking about my hair..." Leela primly groomed her pony-tail as she spoke, though the sight reminded Fry of when she'd been on the edge of breaking down after finding her parents' home in the sewers. "Fry?"

"MacDuff, yeah, I know..."

Fry made his way out into the corridor and waited for Leela and the Professor to emerge. Farnsworth peered at him again as he passed by, muttering 'remarkable' and similar exclamations under his breath as he meandered down the corridor, leaving the pair alone.

The carpet... well there was a carpet, Fry realised. That was new. And the walls were... wrong. It was all wrong, just wrong enough to annoy him without being wrong enough to be wrong. Fry rubbed his temples, trying to massage away the headache behind his eyes. He needed a drink and somewhere quiet to lie down for a few hours. Oh, hell, would he end up staying with Yancy? That wouldn't work. He'd go nuts! Oh great, now Leela was staring at him again, better make with the conversation Fry.

"So..."

"Fry what the hell were you thinking, flirting with Amy like that?"

"What? Flirt... I wasn't flirting!"

Leela's only reply was an angry huff. She folded her arms and glared at Fry. "We're in a new universe for less than three hours and you're already trying to get into Amy's pants. I expected better of you, Fry."

"Come on, Leela, it's nothing like that! She... look, she just likes me, that's all." He looked into Leela's skeptical eye and tried to think of something that would appease her. "I didn't even say anything to her!"

"I'll put it down to the stress we're under," she said primly before marching away down the corridor. Fry scowled at her back.

"It's not like you would care," he grumbled once she was safely around the corner. After all, like she said, it wasn't like anything between would work... with a heartfelt sigh, Fry trekked after Leela, wondering what had gone wrong with his life and whether they'd ever get away from this crazy, mixed up universe.

* * *

"So what you're saying," Veklerov said very slowly, "is that this isn't our Sirochka?"

"My name is Leela."

Veklerov shrugged. "I call you Sirochka. You don't normally mind."

"If I knew what it meant then maybe-"

Leela's burgeoning tirade was brought to a quick halt by Farnsworth slapping his hand down on the conference table. It wasn't a particularly pleasant sound, involving far too much crackling to be healthy, but it got everyone's attention. Farnsworth glared at Veklerov and Leela in turn before looking away.

"Thank you. Now yes, it's true, these two are from a universe parallel to our own, and they apparently had little choice in coming here, though it seems they're unwilling to explain..." he gave Fry an expectant look but he just folded his arms and stared at the table. He wasn't in the mood for being helpful, why should they expect him to do all the talking anyway? Talking was Leela's job, not his.

Yancy sighed and then laughed quietly.

"There was never any chance of them finding me, then," he said before turning toward Fry, who watched his brother warily, unsure of how he'd react. Yancy stared at him for a moment or two then turned away, blinking back a tear.

"Well, be that as it may, they are here now, and they need our help or, more accurately, my help. That means for once you lazy jackasses can do something to help me." He paused, expecting a response and getting nothing. "Someone's missing. Who's missing?"

"Bender and that stinkin lobster," Hermes said from behind his briefcase. He laid a series of forms on the table with a skeptical air. "Bender filed an employee non-authorised absence authorisation this mornin and the both of them have been missing all day. Did you know he has a sentient livestock transport license?"

Farnsworth adjusted his glasses as he stared at Hermes. "Bender filled in a form?"

"I know," Hermes replied, pushing the forms over to the Professor, who turned to examine the flimsy hard-copies whilst Hermes perused an electronic backup on his clipboard. "It's got me worried, he never does anything by the book."

"Wouldn't that be something you wanted, though?" Amy plucked one of the forms from Farnsworth's grasp and peered at it with a vague confusion. She tossed it back on the table. "Gleesh, I hate forms..."

Fry and Leela shared a look, the conflict between them forgotten as they each remembered how they'd ended up here. The silent thought hung in the air for a moment, mingled with the considered possibilities of just what Bender would be up to with Zoidberg. Fry, from long experience, had a fairly good idea of the sort of things that might be going on, with another attempt to win first prize at a pet show being the least disturbing he could think of.

The Professor stared at the forms arrayed before him and then brushed them to one side. "I don't care what he's up to as long as I don't have to pay for the results. Veklerov, Yancy, you'll just have to make your delivery without him. Now sort out amongst yourselves who gets to take these two home. I can't have them cluttering up the place."

"Oh, I'll take him," Amy said, pointing at Fry with a broad grin. Leela's eye narrowed.

"Perhaps it would be best if he stayed with his brother," she said, putting a hand on Fry's shoulder. Fry winced as her nails dug into his flesh. "After all, I'm sure they have plenty to talk about."

"Right," Yancy and Fry both said at the same time, and with the same doubtful tone. Amy's mouth flapped open and shut a few times. She slumped back into her seat and folded her arms with a scowl strong enough to burn a hole in the conference table's sheer surface.

"Fine..."

There was a moment of tense silence. Vek slapped the table and stood up. "Right then, Yanchovich, time to go play amongst the stars again eh?"

Yancy grimaced as he followed Veklerov back down to the ship. He paused at the top of the stairs to look back at Fry with a vague sort of desperation until Vek shouted at him to hurry up. Fry tried to smile at his brother but Yancy just waved half-heartedly and ran down to the ship. A moment later the engines whined into life. The ship gently lifted from the hangar floor and powered away through the open roof.

"Huh, secondary motivator coil needs turning," Leela muttered as she watched the ship retreat toward the bright blue sky. She let go of Fry's shoulder and moved off toward the employee lounge in a daze.

"All things bein equal they should be back in about two hours, which gives me just enough time to file this mornin's accident reports."

"Accident reports?"

"Oh yes... though with that lobster gone there's fewer than usual. Most of them are to do with the way you decided to have flyin lessons in our store room, ya great lumpen lummoxes." Hermes' briefcase close with a loud snap as he stood up. "Try not to break anythin else."

Talking quietly to each other, Hermes and the Professor departed the conference area, leaving Amy and Fry alone at the table. They stared at each other for a few minutes.

"So you're really from another universe?"

Fry shrugged and tried to smile. Somehow it felt easier when Leela wasn't around, watching his every move. "Yeah. You're... you're not going to shoot at me again, are you?"

"Gluh?"

"Never mind..." Fry stood up, suddenly full of a nervous energy he could feel buzzing all the way out to his fingers. "I need to get out of here for a while."

"Oh great, I was gonna go shopping. Wanna go hit the town?" Amy said with a smile. Fry had a momentary image of himself pounding up and down fifth avenue, piled high with Amy's shopping bags and shook his head. But then she leaned toward Fry and winked.

"Oh. Oh!" He glanced at the corridor to the employee lounge. What would Leela say? Eh, he just wouldn't tell her. "Let's take the back way out..."


	10. Chapter 10

Leela sprawled on the couch, staring at the blank TV screen without really seeing it as she tried to work out what was wrong with her head. They were stuck in a parallel universe and all Fry could think about was... but that wasn't strictly fair, was it? He was probably as confused as she was about the whole thing. And it had been Amy making all the moves, not Fry.

So far...

And what about his brother? Leela didn't have siblings, or at least her parents hadn't mentioned any, so she didn't really understand the dynamics of the situation. Yancy seemed like a nice enough guy from what she'd seen of him, as long as you ignored that tendency to assume the worst about everything. He was like an uptight version of Fry. Kinda cute, in a way. Fry didn't seem particularly happy to see him. His only family. It was a bit callous, wasn't it?

She put it down to the stress.

A lot of things were down to the stress, she thought, peering at her reflection in the screen. Her eye was a little bloodshot and her brow had that annoying wrinkle in it, the one that took a little longer to fade away every time she frowned. Leela shut her eye and massaged her forehead. She was stuck here for at least a week from what the Professor was saying. A week. They'd be fired again. She'd lose her job thanks to the idiot.

No, that wasn't fair either. Technically it was her own fault, if 'Evila' or whatever she was calling herself could really be considered 'her'. What was it she'd thought? A mad version of herself with a big gun and a bloodlust? Funny how the world kept dealing these situations out to her, almost as if it wanted her to go crazy.

Well, she was gone now, finally. As long as they didn't stumble across her again it'd be all right. Leela opened her eye again, a little more confident than before. So what if they were stuck for a little while? Hermes would probably understand once they got back. She could swing something. She was a successful space captain! Something would come up. Something always came up.

Leela glanced at the clock. With a jolt she realised she'd been asleep for nearly two hours. Asleep! She hadn't even noticed. Leela sat up, rubbing the tiredness from her eye as she looked around the room. There seemed to be some sort of a commotion coming up from the lobby, accompanied by thumping footsteps as someone climbed the stairs to the lounge. A moment later Amy and a large, walking pile of shopping bags emerged.

"I don't see what the problem is." Amy tossed her handbag onto the coffee table and started pulling bags from the pile.

"When you said 'shopping' I didn't think you actually meant shopping," the piled up bags exclaimed with Fry's voice, before giving out a plaintive sigh and falling to the floor. Fry pulled his hands loose from the bags wrapped around him and shook his head. "I thought you meant, y'know, going to a bar for coffee or something."

"Gleesh, and miss the ten percent sale at Alien Overlord and Taylor? Are you out of you mind?"

"Apparently," Fry muttered, staring at the goods piled up around his legs.

He pushed through the bags as if walking through drifted snow, ignoring Amy's annoyed yell about damaged goods, and slumped down on the couch next to Leela. Amy, muttering in her strange Martian dialect, started dragging her purchases to the far end of the room. Leela waited until Amy was lost in her labour before turning to Fry.

"I hate to say I told you so."

"So don't... wait, you didn't tell me anything!"

"I would have done if you'd given me the time." Leela folded her arms with a nod. That would show him. Unfortunately it didn't seem to. Fry narrowed his eyes at her and slowly leaned back, frowning.

"You pretty much accused me of wanting to get Amy in bed and then just ran off," he said with a terrible, narrow stare. Leela blinked and looked away, searching her memory. She hadn't, had she?

"But..." Leela looked up to see Fry moving to join Amy, several bags under his arm. "Fry, wait."

He rounded on her as she approached, ignoring Amy's annoyed yell as several of her more intimate purchases flew from one of the bags Fry was carrying and flopped to the floor.

"Why?"

"Be-ecause..." Leela was taken aback for a moment. This wasn't the Fry she knew, the affable kid who never stayed mad at anyone. Stress. Had to be stress. She could feel a headache coming on too. Leela grit her teeth, massaging her temples. "Look... I'm... I'm sorry, all right?"

"You're sorry. Everyone's sorry." He knelt down to pick up Amy's smalls, barely even noticing what they were as he stuffed them back into the bag. "People keep apologising to me for treating me like an idiot. They don't seem to think maybe they should just not do it in the first place."

"I'm not treating you like an idiot, Fry. If you hadn't noticed, we're stuck in a parallel universe! It's a very stressful situation for both of us."

"Yeah," Fry muttered. He stood up, ignoring the packets that flopped afresh from half-open bags. "Maybe now you know what it feels like to be stuck in someone else's world."

"Fry, what are you..." The words died in her throat. Fry gave her a look of unguarded anguish that lasted but a moment before the more familiar, slightly vacant, though frowning expression returned. He turned away before she could say anything else and dragged the bags toward Amy. The young intern shot her a look somewhere between confusion and disgust. I am way out of my depth here...

The loud buzz of the reception bell cut off Leela's train of thought before she could take it any further. Without really thinking she started down the stairs to the lobby, only to realise where she was once she'd reached the reception door. She stopped dead in her tracks and swallowed; just ahead, behind the reception desk, a Neptunian secretary sat with her back to the inner door clattering away on a keyboard with two hands as she held a third to an automated manicure machine and spoke into a telephone held in the fourth. She seemed completely oblivious to whoever was trying to get in.

A busy reception just didn't figure in Leela's view of the company which, let's face it, had never been particularly well known or profitable for most of its life. It was strange how 'classy' the reception seemed compared to back home, too. Where theirs had a couple of faded posters extolling the somewhat dubious virtues of Planet Express, an outdated calendar and very little else, this place had an entire wall dedicated to service awards and high-profile client endorsements. Al Gore, McWendyKing, even Mom's Friendly Robot Company had used Planet Express at some point. And been pleased with it, too.

The door buzzed again, gleaning an angry glare and a hissed complaint from the receptionist. She apologised to the telephone and dropped it to the desk in order to activate the intercom. Apparently the idea of taking her fingers from the manicure machine never crossed her mind.

"Ya know that sign about staff training is there for a reason, yeah," she grumbled as the screen came to life. A flicker of desaturated brown hair passed in front of the intercom camera as whoever was at the door leaned over to peer at the notice. "If ya want to make an appointment ya come back tomorrow, see?"

"How about you let me in and I don't have you arrested for obstructing a government official in the course of business," Leela's voice said over the intercom. Leela stifled a gasp and backed away into the shadows behind the door. She was here already!

The receptionist rolled her bright blue eyes and shrugged with her free arms. Oddly, though, she seemed to be smiling just a little. "A moment."

Leela realised she wasn't entirely alone. She looked over her shoulder and found Hermes watching the lobby with distant interest. He glanced at her and, realising she was looking at him, put on his customary frown.

"You might want to go back upstairs," he muttered, frowning even harder at the receptionist as she finished up her work and leaned over to buzz the door open.

Leela nodded and made her way back up to the employee lounge. Fry was gone and Amy, too, which put all sorts of unsavoury thoughts in her head, plus no small feeling of betrayal. Hadn't he realised how much what he'd said had hurt her? But even now that accusation rang slightly hollow in her mind; she'd hurt him just as much... but then he didn't have to go chasing after Amy all the time did he? Conniving little-

"-take a little time to get back, they're stuck at a checkpoint apparently." Hermes voice echoed just beyond the door as two pairs of footsteps drew to a halt outside the lounge. "Which is fortunate," he continued. "There's someone you need to meet first."

"Really. This isn't McDiarmid trying to get into my pants again is it?"

"Absolutely not!"

"Not your robot trying another scam?"

"We haven't seen him all day," Hermes said, sounding strangely amused by the idea of Bender not being around. Perhaps he was just enjoying the thought of not having the pay him. "It concerns one of the Professor's inventions."

"Oh great... well, let's get it over with." And with that she pushed the door open and stepped into the room.

There was a moment's silence as she stared at Leela, lips parted into something that looked like it was about to turn into a sneer, eye widening in shock. Leela looked at herself once again, took in the cryogenics lab uniform and clipboard and travelbag, the permanent half-frown she remembered wearing back when she'd worked there, and the dark brown hair. Brown?

"You have got to be kidding me."

Leela gave herself a lame little wave and a smile. Funny how quickly she was getting used to the concept of seeing herself everywhere, though she wished Fry were around to distract both herselves from the sight of each other. Right about now he'd say something cute or stupid to break the ice and they'd be able to get on with it all. She glanced around the room, wondering if he'd conveniently turn up with that idiot charm at full blast, they way he normally did. No such luck.

It was her counterpart who eventually performed the ice-breaking, after narrowing her eye at Leela's hair. "Is this some sort of a joke?"

She threw her clipboard and bag onto the couch as she advanced toward Leela and paused a few feet away, still frowning, which gave Leela time a chance to see how ugly that frown made her look. Hermes moved quietly past her and held out his arm.

"Turanga Leela, meet Turanga Leela."

"Right." She looked Leela up and down with an icy expression. Leela could almost swear she felt the temperature in the room drop a few degrees. "The minute I let that lunatic professor of yours take a blood sample I knew I'd end up talking to a clone."

"Hey, watch it with the clone talk!"

"I've tolerated a lot from this place, Mister Conrad, but this time you've gone too far." The ParaLeela retrieved her clipboard from the couch, ignoring Hermes' protests as she made her way back to the door. Finally he did something almost unbelievable; he slammed his hand against the door to prevent Leela's counterpart opening it. She turned to him with that same icy expression.

"Get out of my way."

"I'm sorry, Miss Turanga-" was all Hermes managed to say before an oversized dart whipped through the room and struck the ParaLeela in the neck. She blinked in surprise and tried to reach for the dart but its contents were apparently too fast acting. Her eye drooped and, very slowly, she toppled backward into a snoring heap on the couch. Leela felt her stomach leap into her throat, followed by a momentary bout of nausea. It was a very odd feeling to see yourself shot.

"Well that could have gone better," Hermes muttered, turning from the door. Professor Farnsworth wandered in, holding a high-power dart gun under one arm and a dart in the other. He was in the process of re-loading when Leela found her voice.

"What did you do that for?"

"She was going to leave before I'd done my tests," Farnsworth stated. "I wasn't ready for that yet."

"But-"

"Oh calm down, dear, it's only a mild sedative, by the time it wears off my scans will be completed and then you two can be introduced properly."

And with that he raised the gun toward Leela and fired. The dart hit her in the shoulder, flooding her body with a strange, prickling numbness that seemed almost like a relief after the insanity of the last few days. Then the lights in the room grew incredibly bright and hot. She tried to brush the sweat from her forehead but her arm refused to cooperate, preferring to weave a small pattern in the air in front of her face. Hermes was shouting something, but Leela couldn't see what it was because the smell of the ceiling was too purple. Then she felt her feet floating into the air and the floor came up to say hello just before turning out the lights.


	11. Chapter 11

The commotion in the lounge was drowned out by the roar of the Planet Express ship as it descended, a little the worse for whatever hazards it had encountered on its journey. Fry could see a few nicks and scratches in the paintwork and a nasty scorch mark on the starboard wing.

The second the ship touched down an incredibly pale-faced Yancy came tearing down the gangway and underneath the balcony to the lockers. Fry almost tipped head-first over the railing as he tried to watch his brother though, fortunately, Amy managed to catch the back of his jacket before he fell. He smiled a thanks at her and trotted down the stairs to the lockers.

Locker-rooms always look the same and always have that distinct slightly damp leathery smell no matter how well they're cared for. Of course this one was no different, though Fry did notice there wasn't the usual odour of stale Slurm about the place. When I get back I'll clean out my locker, he thought. And then he frowned. That was assuming he ever got back.

"Hey, Yancy? Bro?" Fry edged through the locker-room, listening cautiously. Yancy hadn't looked very happy in the brief glimpse Fry had of him, there was no telling how he'd act, and he wasn't keen on getting into a shouting match so soon after the last one. He eventually reached the bathroom. It was locked.

"You there?"

A loud groan was the only answer he got at first. Fry was just wondering if he should try and break in to help his brother when the lock shot back and Yancy emerged, shaking and pale. He leaned on the door-frame for support and groaned again.

"Yancy? What's-"

"It's insane." Yancy wiped his sleeve across his mouth. He stumbled over to the benches and sat down heavily. "It's absolutely, utterly insane..."

"What?"

Yancy gestured across the hangar at the ship. Veklerov was walking around it, inspecting the hull with scan-o-scope goggles panted firmly on his face, making notes on a computer pad. Fry shrugged and sat down next to his brother. He looked incredibly pale.

"It's just the ship."

"Just... you're kidding, right? That thing goes out into space! You can die in space!"

"You can die down here just as easily you know," Fry retorted, his mind running back over the many, many times he'd almost died right out on the streets of New New York.

"Down here doesn't suck your lungs right out of your mouth and make your eyeballs explode."

Yancy stared at Fry as if just realising who he was talking to. That annoying cynical sneer was back again, the angrily assumed superiority that Fry had always hated from his brother who, let's face it, wasn't the sharpest tool in the box. And that's me saying it Fry thought, surprised at himself and harbouring a certain guilty pleasure at the little pun he'd come up with. His brother seemed confused by Fry's lack of terror at the thought of space flight, too. Oh he knew there was danger involved, but the sheer excitement of being out there...

"It's no big deal, that's what the ship is for. Didn't you ever want to go into space when we were kids?"

"No, it's stupid, and it's dangerous."

"Couldn't you just go work somewhere else?"

Yancy's only reply was a half-hearted gesture toward a 'You Gotta Do' poster on the wall, one that Fry had completely forgotten about, largely because he enjoyed his job too much to care. Oh, sure, there were times when he got dumped on, and the pay wasn't brilliant, but the chance to go out into space, hang around with his friends... he realised he was staring at the ship and smiling. Even if it wasn't 'his' ship – or Leela's – it was still the ship.

"You're telling me you like going up in that thing?"

Fry felt like he'd been punched. Yancy's disgust couldn't be more obvious if he'd spat in Fry's face.

"Yeah, it's fun. I get to see things that most people never even dreamed about. I've been to the moon, I've seen things you wouldn't even believe! How many people from our time can say that?"

"You're as crazy as he is," Yancy yelled, gesturing at Vek as he entered the lockers. The pilot paused at Yancy's outburst and made a face before continuing to his locker. Which just happened to be where Leela's locker normally was.

"Hey, isn't that-"

"So many questions eh? What is with your family, always asking questions and shouting at people?" Vek stuffed the goggles into his locker and pulled out a coat, which he slung over one shoulder. "Yanchovich, go secure the primary buffer panel before you run off home, I don't want it just falling off again. And you," he added, pointing at Fry. "Professor wants you in his lab again."

"Did he say what for?"

"Nope."

"Well... did you see what for?"

Vek finished putting on his coat and started to pull a few personal items from the locker. "Nope!"

"Can't you find-"

"Nope!"

"But-"

"Zacroy rot! Niet!" Vek slammed the door of his locker and marched toward the rear stairs. Fry leaped up, managing to catch up with Vek just as he reached the door. He grabbed the pilot's coat and tugged at it. "_What?_"

"What did you say?"

"_Perestan mne jabat mozgi svojimi voprosami!"_

The door slammed shut in Fry's face, leaving him none the wiser and feeling more than a little insulted. He wandered back out into the hangar to find Yancy, stood near the ship's port wing, holding an odd contraption in his hands and staring at the more obvious damage to the ship's hull. He turned slightly as Fry approached, grumbling at the machine in his hands.

"This is supposed to be Amy's job, she's the one with the engineering degree."

"She is?" Fry glanced over his shoulder at Amy, ignoring his brother's muttered complaints about his life. "Well, anyway, back home Leela does most of it."

"Oh, yeah, the great fixer. Damn..." this was directed at the device Yancy held, which had started beeping a loud complaint. "Piece of junk!"

He threw the device to the floor and then kicked it for good measure, eliciting a series of shrill bleeps. The machine exploded in a shower of sparks and smoke that set the owls hooting and flapping around the hangar. They quickly settled down to add their own unique contribution to the damaged ship's hull.

"Great..."

"You know-"

"Cram it, Phil! Just shut up! I'm sick of this job, I'm sick of this whole damn place and the last thing I need is you telling me how great you think it is!"

"Well... fine! Fine, I was just going to ask if you wanted to get a drink after work, but I guess you don't need your stupid little brother around."

Fry turned away from Yancy but then stopped. He looked back at his brother, trying to work out just what was going through his own head at the sight. "Yancy I haven't seen you for nearly six years."

"Six years, a thousand, what difference does it make? You screwed up my entire life, Phil! I was... I was going to propose, I had a job offer, I could have done anything but you had to get ill and convince me to help you out. Just one time, you said. Just once! Look where it got me!"

Yancy kicked the smouldering machine at his feet again, gave Fry a final haughty glare and stormed off back to the lockers. The owls high above seemed to be hooting laughter at Fry as he slouched after his brother, the way it seemed he always eventually did, with his face burning and his stomach clenched and boiling through sheer frustration. Was nobody in this universe going to be nice to him? Maybe if Leela... no, that was about as likely as him being made pope.

He heard Amy calling down from the balcony. She smiled at him. "What's the matter, Red?"

"Oh... it's nothin, just junk and stuff. I have to go see the professor about something, you wanna come?"

"Sure. Gotta look after the old guy anyway. Wait there, I'll be right down."


	12. Chapter 12

The pen was out again, poking at things as the professor muttered to himself and wandered around the lab. He looked up as Fry and Amy entered, stared at them blank faced for a moment and then resumed wandering.

The machine with the weird wheel seemed to be turned off now, or at least it wasn't spinning any more, and the cradle behind it seemed to be full of the strange rods it had been ejecting earlier. He felt an odd temptation to pick up one of the rods and play with it. They looked like they'd make good swords but, ultimately, Fry's experience of the lab stayed his hand. He turned away from the machine and sat down at one of the workbenches beside Amy.

"I'm here, Professor. What did you want?"

"What? Who are you? Ohh..." Farnsworth peered at Fry again as he shuffled over to them, pen at the ready. "Oh yes. The idiot."

"Hey, quit it!"

"Oh, if you insist." Farnsworth sighed tossed the pen over his shoulder. "Such a shame, I was quite looking forward to that. As to why you are here..."

The professor motioned them away from the workbench before producing a small remote control, which he aimed at the floor. There was just a long enough pause for Fry to start asking what was meant to happen when the floor seemed to drop away from under their feet. Fry screamed and grabbed hold of Amy for support; the floor had transformed into an elevator, rapidly descending down a narrow concrete shaft. There was barely any sound, aside from the regular swish of passing structural beams.

He let go of Amy right about the time the elevator began to slow its descent. Fry wasn't good at judging how far or fast elevators moved but even he could figure out that the were a long, long way below the lava pit the Professor had back home. He looked up the shaft sunk deep into the ground, its open end a tiny white disk bare visible between the strip-lights tapering up the shaft walls. Fry let out a low whistle at the sight.

There was more to come. The elevator platform shivered to a halt in a wide, dimly lit concrete room, leaving them stood in a narrow column of light beneath the elevator shaft. Farnsworth stepped out of the light, motioning for Fry and Amy to follow as he made his way across to a stout metal door set into the facing wall.

Fry felt a chill in the air as he followed the professor. He stopped a short distance from the light and turned to look at it. "What is this place?"

"Surely if you've worked at Planet Express as long as you claim in your universe, you've visited my underground laboratory?" Farnsworth swiped his fingers over a pad at the side of the door. Somewhere in the distance they heard a buzzer, followed a moment later by metallic clunking noises as machinery slid into place and activated itself. The door began to slide open with a squeal of badly maintained runners.

"Yeah, but that was just a few computers and a lava pit in a... cave..." Fry's voice trailed off as the door passed before him. "Wow."

"That's what I said first time I was down here." Amy smiled at Fry and took his hand. He almost didn't notice the gesture, but then some latent sense of guilt stole through him and he quickly pulled his hand away.

"Sorry."

"It's okay, I just like holding hands," Amy replied, rallying another smile. Fry felt another pang of guilt, though now he wasn't sure for what or whom it was felt. He gave Amy a weak smile in return.

The door halted in its recess with a loud clunk and Farnsworth urged them forward onto another elevator platform surrounded by a tall railing. As the moved past the confines of the elevator lobby the lab revealed its full magnitude, a massive underground space carved out of the living rock, so large that its farthest wall was nearly lost in a haze. Fry almost fell over backwards looking up at the distant roof, supported by gigantic, elegantly curved trusses and criss-crossed by piping and gantries. The space was filled with gigantic generators and machines, entire buildings built across the floor and up the walls, surrounded by more walkways, pipes and even a travel tube or two.

"It's an entire city," Fry exclaimed as he looked around himself until his eyes came to rest on a enormous, faded mural on the far wall, identical to the symbol on the back of the conference room chairs.

"Oh my, yes... completely deserted, of course." Farnsworth waited until the elevator had reached the ground before speaking again. "You're looking at your own legacy here. Seymour and Butes funded the creation of this entire underground research complex in the late twenty-one thirties. At its height there were nearly half a million people living and working here, churning out some of the world's most precious inventions. All gone now, of course, to Montana or Mars, or somewhere beginning with 'M', but I still find it useful for some of my more hideously explosive experiments or anything I can't fit upstairs..."

Farnsworth idly waved his hand toward a distant object hanging from the ceiling gantries. It looked like a near-perfect miniature replica of the earth with a huge crater blown in it's surface.

"Oh one day I'll perfect my miniature doomsday devices... one day. I'm bringing the paraboxes down into the underground store for scanning," he added, pointing at a distant team of hoverdollies sliding down a ramp toward a warehouse-style building. "Frankly I can't think why I kept them in the upstairs store-room when I had this. I expect I simply forgot."

Farnsworth lead them into a smaller building attached to the warehouse that contained a large and complicated laboratory with more equipment in it than Fry had ever seen. Entire banks of computers hummed away along one wall with a coruscating pattern of lights flickering across their surface. One of the computers was outputting a long stream of ticker-tape into an overflowing bin.

Toward one side of the lab there was an area that looked like a cheap hospital ward, curtained off and surrounded by scanning equipment, to which Farnsworth was already heading. He sat down in front of a binocular scope to adjust the scanners, then slipped behind the curtained area, leaving Amy and Fry alone for a moment. They looked at each other awkwardly until Amy finally spoke.

"I'm sorry for shouting at you before."

"Eh, it's okay." Fry shrugged and wandered up to the curtains. "I mean I figured you meant a bar, or... y'know, something like that but, just getting outside for a couple of hours was okay too. I needed it."

"Yeah, I could tell."

"I like bars."

Amy raised an eyebrow at him. "We could go to one now..."

Farnsworth poked his head around the curtain and glared at them. "Not until I've done what I brought you here to do!" He slid the curtain back, revealing Leela and her counterpart asleep in two hospital-style beds, festooned in wires and cabling. Fry felt his fists clench before he could consciously react.

"What have you done to her?"

"Oh spare me your stupid-ages morality." The Professor turned to examine a machine sat between the two beds. "They are asleep, nothing more. The detailed scans are easier to perform when the subjects aren't moving."

"Oh. Right..." Fry leaned over Leela's bed to look at her face. It seemed so peaceful. Even the crease in her brown was gone, a sight he'd only seen perhaps half a dozen times in the entire time he'd known her. At least two of those occasions had been- but that was past, she'd made that very clear afterwards.

He straightened up again. "This was voluntary, right?"

"Well uh... Leela did volunteer to be scanned, yes, absolutely. Speaking of scans," Farnsworth continued, taking Fry's arm as he manoeuvred him toward a small round platform. "I don't need to perform anything so detailed on you as on these two, but I would like to have some basic scans of your quantum resonance signature as a reference."

"My what? Do I have to get naked?"

"Oh my no... the machine can see right through your clothing if it needs to. Quite handy too," he said, glancing at Amy. She blushed and then frowned, and then blushed again in quick succession. Pervert, Fry thought, nodding as the Professor continued to explain what the machine would do. He couldn't understand most of it apart from that he had to stand on the platform and keep his hands out of his pockets. After a few minutes, in which the Professor finally decided to give up his explanation, Fry was ushered from the pad and went to stand with Amy again whilst Farnsworth pottered around the machine.

"Ahh, very useful," he said eventually. "Very useful. The variant resonance signature from your 'danish' is already being incorporated into your physical structure. Fascinating..."

"I really needed to know that." Fry poked his belly a few times, vaguely worried about his molecules. Resonance meant vibration, right? That meant bits of him might be wobbling. He poked his belly again. Well, wobbling more than usual. "Great, now I'm hungry."

Amy giggled and grabbed Fry's hand. "Come on, I know a great place."

"Yeah. Hang on a second."

Fry glanced back at the peacefully sleeping Leela. She'd looked the same when she'd been in her coma that time. Peaceful. He wondered what was going through her mind this time, whether she was even dreaming at all.

Farnsworth suddenly turned from his machine and glared at Fry. "You can leave if you like. I don't need you here."

"What about her?"

"Oh she doesn't need you here either," Farnsworth replied with a dismissive wave. For a moment Fry wondered if he'd been listening to their argument earlier, but... nah, he probably wouldn't have been able to remember it anyway.

He was torn, though. Leela would want him around when she woke up wouldn't she. Or he'd want to be around her... would she need him, though? Fry was pretty sure of the answer to that question, not that it was particularly easy to think about when he had Amy tugging at his coat like a demented teenager.

Farnsworth seemed to read what was going through Fry's mind. He smiled, not a particularly pleasant sight at the best of times, and patted Leela's wrist. "Don't you worry about her, I'll see they both get home safely. Uh, eventually!"

"Right. Sure." No reasons left. He figured he could trust Farnsworth, in some odd way, to stick to that promise. He'd never jeopardise a potential organ source. "Home here, or our home?"

"Oh... whichever is closest I suppose," Farnsworth replied.

"Gleesh! Can we go now?"

Fry turned to Amy, saw her smiling and found he was smiling along with her. "Yeah, sure."

"All right! We'll start at O'Grady's-"

"O'Zorgnax's," Fry corrected as she dragged him toward the exit. Amy sniggered. "What?"

"You'll see."

* * *

O'Grady's it was, it seemed. Fry stared up at the faded sign with an odd, detached sense of confusion. O'Grady's, here, in the future. The bar he'd ridden past any number of times delivering pizzas, the bar he'd even been in a few times, once even with a girl. It might be a historical curio for Amy but for him it was almost like being back home. At least until the Neptunian hooker walked past.

"Don't just stand there," Amy grizzled, pushing him toward the door. Fry wasn't really in any condition to resist and let himself stumble into the building. One thing caught his eye, though, before the sign swung out of view; a tiny crest printed in the centre of the 'O'. A dog's head with a crown around its neck. Apparently he'd been busy in this universe or, at least, his 'legacy' had. The cold chill that briefly engulfed his body as he stared at the sign made Fry shiver.

Not much had changed inside, though it seemed a little cleaner – the sort of glittering, worn-in cleanliness that comes from something being scrubbed every day for a thousand years, perhaps. iZac, the robot tender from the ill-fated Titanic, was crooning to himself behind the bar when Fry sidled up and sat down.

"Hey iZac, how's it hangin?"

The robot bartender spun his head around to face Fry with the robotic equivalent of a frown. "Do I know you, bro?"

"I guess not... uh... I'm Fry."

"Familiarity is a three drink minimum," iZac said, returning his attention to the glass he held in his hand. "You wanna lay down some lean green or shuffle your pack out back, jack?"

Fry glanced at Amy, with a nervous smile, dropped a twenty on the bar top and ordered two Kleinekens. iZac snatched up the money and scooted away down the bar to serve another patron. A hovertray brought their beers a moment later.

"I've never had one of these before," Amy said, staring at the bottle with a dubious expression. The beer inside sloshed about unnaturally as she picked it up. She covered one eye and tried to focus on the outside of the glass. "How..."

"I find it easier to just close my eyes," Fry replied, raising the bottle to his lips.

His first beer for three days. Fry smacked his lips and set the bottle down to look around the bar, noticing how unchanged it was, yet how everything seemed to exude age, like his socks. Only better smelling. No, more like the Head Museum. The point was, it was familiar, which was enough for Fry right now. He finished his drink and waved for two more.

"So, parallel universes." Amy set her empty bottle down – Fry half-smiled as he remembered how much drink she could squeeze into her slender body when she wanted to. She looked at him with an intensely curious expression that belied her ditzy exterior. God, don't let her ask how they work...

"What about them?"

"I dunno... what am I like, back in yours?"

Fry looked her up and down, smiling at the memories. And then remembering how he'd dumped her. Probably wouldn't be a good idea to mention that, or the bit where he'd been on her shoulder. "The same I guess. Oh yeah, back there you wear pink."

"Flech! Pink? Don't I have, like, any taste?"

"Oh, I dunno, I always thought it was cute." Oh why did you say that, Fry? He looked down at his beer, only to realise his mistake when he went cross-eyed trying to trace the bottle's shape. Fry squeezed his eyes shut until he stopped feeling like his eyeballs were turning inside out and carefully turned away from the bar.

"You're not much like your brother," she said a moment later. Fry shrugged. "I meant it as a complement."

"Oh. Right! Yeah he can be a bit... stiff."

"I found that much out," Amy replied. Fry nearly swallowed his bottle, which wouldn't have done his intestines much good in any case, and ended up choking on his beer until Amy slapped him on the back. "You all right?"

"I didn't really need to know that..."

"Oh. Oh yeah, sorry," Amy said, downcast. She toyed with her empty bottle for a moment. "It didn't really work out anyway, more like a one night thing."

"Barkeep, something a little stronger please?"

iZac dropped a fresh pair of bottles on the bar-top with a flourish before departing to harangue a member of staff. Fry stared at the bottle, glanced at Amy and began to drink. He didn't stop until he was near the bottom.

Amy didn't say anything, which seemed odd, since she normally would have found someone to flirt with by now. She was still there when he looked again, but she seemed to be lost in thought, which suited Fry for now since it meant she wouldn't be asking any more awkward questions. Fry took another swig of his beer – it was quite a bit stronger than the Kleineken – while he absorbed the babbling chatter of the bar and the time-worn look of its fixtures. Here and there were other obvious cryogenic travellers, all of whom had apparently gravitated toward this same bar. An old man in a jaunty cap flirting with one of the Neptunian staff; a younger couple, probably seeking out a new life away from their past; Yancy... Fry's eyes rested for a moment on a young, athletic Asian woman before the previous thought turned back and tapped him on the metaphorical shoulder.

"Yancy!"

His brother, in common with most of the bar's patrons, looked around in surprise until his gaze came to rest on Fry. Yancy's jaw dropped, then he seemed to wilt in resignation, closing his eyes and slumping back in his seat. A moment later he put his head in his hands.

"I need to-"

"Family," Amy said with a light shrug. She followed him over, though, taking a seat next to Fry as he sat opposite Yancy. Probably out of morbid curiosity.

For a moment Yancy refused to look at Fry, preferring to concentrate on his beer – some light brand Fry had tried once and dismissed as, well, light. They sat like that for a while, Yancy watching the bubbles in his drink, Fry watching Yancy, and Amy watching them both like a curious cat.

"You all right, bro?"

Yancy gave Fry a defeated look. With a loud sigh he leaned back against the wall. "How do you do it, Phil?"

"Do what?"

"Live. Here," he said, waving the bottle at the bar. His eyes came to rest on an Amphibiosan leaning against the bar, chatting to two human women. He turned to look at Fry again. "I'm going nuts. How do you cope?"

"I just accepted it." Fry glanced at Amy. "I found friends here. Leela, Bender..."

"Yeah, but how do you live? How can... it feels like something insane happens nearly every week around here! Aliens invading, giant space wasps, killer gas clouds... hell that giant floating brain thing?"

"The planetary biogenic shield took care of that," Amy put in. "There was never anything to worry about."

"Oh yes... a Seymour and Butes project rides to the rescue again." He downed the last of his beer with a bitter grimace. "Rub it in some more why don't you?"

"I don't get it, what's this Seymour Butts thing anyway? Hey wait... that was practically my dog's name!"

"That doesn't surprise me," Yancy muttered. He started picking at the label on his beer bottle. "As far as I've been able to find out, about two years after you got me turned into a popsicle you started some sort of investment company, made a fortune on the stock market and pretty much took over the entire US economy."

"Oh. Wow, so I was running the world?" Fry put his hands behind his head and grinned. "Not bad for a 'loser'. Sounds like a nice life."

Yancy glared at Fry, not bothering to hide is contempt. "That was going to be my life until you stole it from me. God dammit, Phil, you even married my girlfriend!"

"But... but that wasn't me, that was some other me! Yancy-"

"Are you saying you wouldn't do the same thing given the chance?"

"Well... all right, yeah, I mean Laura, she was hot, y'know?"

Yancy nodded as he finished off his beer. Then he did something Fry never thought he'd see. He smiled. "She was. I can't blame you for that, Phil, not really. I just miss her so much. I miss all of them."

Fry nodded. "Me too."

"I just, I don't think I can live like this much longer. I mean if it wasn't for..." He stared at the ceiling for a moment, fingers twirling around the empty beer bottle. "I'm going nuts. You still offering that drink?"

Fry nodded. He waved to a passing waitress to order another round. "Amy?"

"I was gonna head over to the Hip Joint, but... sure, why not? I'll have a Hadron Colada."

Fry winced and tried not to think about the damage to his wallet. He held up his empty bottle. "Same again and another-"

"I'll have what he's having," Yancy said. He gave Fry a tight, sour smile. "May as well do this properly."

"Her thing and two of these things."

The waitress smiled as she made a note of the order. "Three things coming right up."


	13. Chapter 13

Hubert Farnsworth leaned back from his position, hunched over the screen of one of the many consoles arrayed around the laboratory, and listened to the almost symphonic ripple of cracks and crunches down his spine. The pain was marginal, which meant that most of it probably wasn't caused by his vertebrae being crushed this time. Probably. Anyway he could just get another round of nanofibre injections to deal with that. He turned away to examine his subjects.

Apart from the quiet hum of the scanners and the warbling of the various devices that kept the two Leela's from waking up, the lab was virtually silent. Farnsworth paused in his examination to look at the medical equipment. For some reason he felt a twinge of guilt for lying to his ancestor, even if he was from another universe. Then again he was from another universe, which meant he wasn't, strictly speaking, Farnsworth's ancestor. In theory he should be guilt-free! And yet...

The scanner caught his eye, emitting a series of coded flashes designed for the sole purpose of attracting his attention. He shuffled over to the machine and leaned over the terminal again, ignoring another series of crackling shocks in his spine. The scans were complete, with anomalies.

"Anomalies," he muttered, glancing back at the pair, slumbering in their beds the way Farnsworth wished he were. He brought up a more detailed reading of the purple Leela's hair, the one he'd designated Leela P for some reason. "Yes... remarkable."

A loud clatter from the warehouse next door derailed Farnsworth's thought path. He turned off the screen, grumbling as he shuffled across the lab to the warehouse entrance. Farnsworth pushed open the door and peered into the twilight gloom of the larger space.

"Hello? Is anybody there?" He pawed at the wall, trying to find a switch to activate the security systems. "I should warn you about my killbots. There's a long list of disclaimers you need to know about, apparently, but I seem to have forgotten them. Not to worry, though," he added, as he moved carefully around the doorway toward a security cabinet. "I'll just tell Hermes you knew. It's not like they could really find out from your charred remains, oh my, no indeed."

He paused at the sound of a metallic click two... three rows of shelves away. The Professor smiled to himself and reached up to pull a plasma rifle – one he'd designed specifically for the elderly and infirm – from the cabinet and quietly cocked the mechanism.

Perhaps it was the unusual nature of the boxes, or perhaps he'd finally lost his marbles, a possibility that constantly dogged the Professor's mind – he stifled a quiet chuckle over the thought. Whatever the reason, Hubert found himself at something of a loss. Normally he knew broadly what to expect with even his most disturbing experiments, but not now. The scan's results had unnerved him just a little. The connection between Leela and-

Something rattled ahead. Farnsworth could hear heavy footsteps. He raised the rifle.

"Who's there?"

The footsteps stopped. Farnsworth's grip tightened on the rifle's padded grip (pine scented, slightly ruffled texture, hypo-allergenic for dry skin) and he hugged the rifle a little closer to his body, aiming it at about upper chest height. "Don't make me try and remember what I said to repeat myself! Who are you?"

"Scruffy," a rough, monotonal voice called out. "The janitor."

"Oh. Oh my."

Farnsworth lowered the rifle as the janitor stepped into view with his hands half-heartedly raised over his head. He shrugged at Farnsworth. "The boxes needed supervisin."

"What? They're boxes you great lumbering broom-pusher! Never mind that, I need you to look after these two in here while I work out a way to get them back to their apartment."

"Babysittin ain't in Scruffy's contract," Scruffy muttered as he followed the Professor back into the lab. Farnsworth glared at him and wondered why he hadn't fired the man yet. He made a mental note to do so in the morning.

"You can say you're supervising them for all I care, just sit here with them until I come back."

Scruffy grunted acknowledgement before slouching into a nearby chair. He pulled down his cap and put his feet up before the astonished Professor.

"What on space earth are you doing here, anyway?"

"Overtime," Scruffy replied from underneath his lowered cap. He smacked his lips a few times and settled back into the chair. I'm definitely going to fire him tomorrow, Farnsworth thought. Whatever his name is!

Satisfied, at least, that his charges wouldn't be lonely, Farnsworth started the long trek back up to the surface and his regular lab. Perhaps some sort of taxi service operated this late? No... he'd have to arrange something a little more appropriate. Hermes was usually still awake around now, he could come in and take them. He had a car of some sort didn't he? With that sorted, Farnsworth began plotting out how best to explain the situation to the two of them. Some sort of recording, perhaps.

* * *

It was dark. Always a good sign. Leela pushed the box lid up a fraction and almost immediately hit another shelf, but that was okay. She'd dealt with that situation more times than she could count. A quick shove at behind the box propelled the it out onto the floor whilst she ducked back inside. A moment later she was crawling out onto the floor of the storeroom.

No, this was different. She looked around, wondering at the size of what was obviously a large industrial warehouse, with row after row of shelving barely even filled by the paraboxes. At the far end of her row a machine was moving from one box to another, its collection of manipulators and probes moving to extend around each parabox as it lifted the lid.

She took a step toward the machine and then heard footsteps beyond it. Her gun was out in moments, the oily, metallic click as she drew back the hammer echoing around the primitive steel shelving racks. Then the idiot professor shouted something from behind her. The footsteps paused. Leela backed away into a gap between the shelves, crouching down in the shadows and tucking the pistol under her jacket as the footsteps continued toward her box.

It was just the janitor. Scruffy. For a moment she thought about shooting him but, then, he'd never done anything bad to her, or anything at all that she could remember. He'd been a creep, but she'd always liked him for the way he'd treated her after the accident.

Anyway, the momentary reverie had distracted her long enough to lose her chance. Scruffy picked up the box, stared at it for a moment, looked around himself and then carefully replaced it on the shelves. The Professor shouted again and Scruffy, apparently bored with being threatened with death, meandered past her hiding place to the end of the shelves to reveal himself. Leela strained to hear the muttered conversation between the janitor and the Professor but they were just too far away. Then there was a little quiet as they walked from the warehouse before, finally, the lights went out.

Leela slowly eased herself from between the shelving and took a moment to examine her surroundings. It was almost pitch black in the warehouse. A faint, blue-grey light filtered in through gaps near the roof, supplemented by a warm glow from the doors. The air felt terribly still and dull. There was no sound either, not even the sigh of wind blowing through the unsealed roof. Dead silence. Almost like home, she thought. Curious.

Keeping her gun ready, Leela crept cautiously to the end of the row. She paused a moment, straining to hear out any would-be ambusher and then eased her head around the corner, letting her peripheral vision take in the scene. Deserted. She holstered the gun and stepped out.

Her eye might make her stand out but, as she'd discovered a long time ago, it gave her excellent peripheral and night vision, not to mention the ability to see a little more into the red than most people. Fry's hair and coat had always stuck out like warning beacons in the dead of space. It should have been a hint... she shook her head at the thought as she crept up to the safety-glass window embedded in the thick double doors.

The room beyond was flooded with bright artificial light and filled with laboratory equipment. She could just make out Scruffy's fat boots perched on a workbench as he slept his night away, and beyond that a bed with-

Purple! It was her! Leela didn't know how, but she knew it was her, the bitch who'd screwed up her fun in two universes now. Without thinking she pulled out the gun again, ready to burst through the door and put a bullet in her sist-

"No...! No, not sister," she muttered, feeling a familiar pressure behind her eye. "Not _sister_..."

Leela backed away from the light, grasping at the sides of her head to try and dull the pain. When she looked back again Scruffy had stood up and was making his way around the workbench toward the door. For a terrifying moment she thought he'd heard her mumbling, but then he turned off to one side and just stood there, staring at an old poster or notice of some sort pasted to the side of a cabinet. A moment later he returned to his seat and settled back out of sight. Even through the thick fire door she could hear his snoring... she wondered how it didn't wake up the other one.

She slipped away from the door and looked around her warehouse again. There had to be other exits. She crept back down the length of the shelves until she reached the far end, where a broad, doorless exit opened up onto... darkness, broken only by dim, regularly spaced columns of light in the distance. Leela looked up and saw more faint, motionless lights illuminating tiny spots of sliver-thin metal pipework and impossibly distant walkways and structural beams. Right then the oppressive stillness made sense. She was underground, quite a way down, too, if the background warmth was any indicator. Almost level with the old sewers at the very least.

"Different," she muttered, staring around. An image hanging in the air – no, no a mural on a wall, made unreal by its inconceivable size, a beast with a crown around it's neck and the inscription _Ambulans Iubare_ carved beneath. The song came to her then; the one he'd always been singing.

He wasn't here. He was dead, long dead more than likely. Leela almost returned to the boxes there and then to look for another more entertaining universe but, on the threshold of the warehouse, she paused and frowned. The other one was here, with his purple pal. Perhaps trapping them in another universe hadn't been such a great plan after all? It was enough to elicit a wry chuckle. Then again, another chance to take him out was... pleasing.

Leela skipped along the ersatz streets of the underground maze she found herself in, humming quietly as she looked for a way up to the surface. After a couple of blocks she slowed down, realising that the surface might not be the best way out. They'd have monitors and security systems in place up there, all sorts of ways to find her and make life inconvenient. She scanned around a little bit until she found what she was after and knelt down to lever a manhole cover out of the ground.

The rank smell of the sewers drifted up past her, strangely stale and attenuated through lack of use. Leela took one final look around the twilight cavern city, slid her feet into the manhole and dropped down into the darkness.

* * *

It was many, many hours later when Amy, Fry and Yancy finally stumbled out of O'Grady's and onto the street, clutching at each other and laughing as they tried to remain upright. By turns they managed to make their way to the end of the block, leaning against each other in a sort of semi-mobile pyramid shape until they reached a local tube-stop.

Fry blearily focused on the tube-stop and tried to walk through what looked like the entrance, only to bounce off the wall.

"Dammit, one of these doors must be the way in," he muttered. Amy giggled, hiccuped and fell on her rear whilst Yancy tried sighting his finger at the right entrance.

"I think it's that one," he said, pointing at Fry's head. For some reason they all found this incredibly funny and fell about laughing on the pavement.

Eventually Fry managed to pull himself upright against the travel-tube entrance wall, still giggling to himself as he fingered the grey plascrete. Yancy was stumbling toward him with Amy wrapped around his waist, muttering something about the last time he'd been this drunk. He stopped at the door and guilelessly peered at Fry through a drunken haze.

"You're my bestest brother, Phil..."

"I'm your only brother, Yancy."

"Yeah, and that's what makes whoops!" He fell over, dragging Amy with him. They landed in a laughing a heap at Fry's feet. "That's what makes you the best!"

Yancy crawled into the tube, muttered a destination and disappeared with a loud woosh. Too late Fry realised he had no idea where Yancy lived.

"Crap."

The cool air was starting to clear Fry's head a little. He knew he'd have a hangover to beat all in the morning, even with a detox, but it had been worth it to see his brother loosen up for once in his life.

"Hey. Hey help me up." Amy held out her hands to Fry. He obliged, after tripping over her twice, and she gave him a leery wink. "Wanna go hit the town?"

Fry looked Amy up and down, pondering. For some reason he looked over his shoulder. Who had he been expecting there? Not that it mattered much, he had something a lot more fun to stare at right in front of him.

"Sooo?" She made a sweet face at him, or at least attempted to, though the drink added a sweaty slackness to her smile. Fry knew he probably looked just as drunk but he didn't quite care.

"I dunno... I should really make sure Yancy gets home." He stared up at the tube. "Wherever that is."

"Oh, I know where it is, we went to his place when we did it." Amy slapped her hands over her mouth with an exaggerated cry of alarm. "Oops!"

Fry shook his head. Maybe he could go over to Leela's instead, at least he knew where that was. Probably. He could sort of remember the way if only the pavement would stop making him want to fall over.

"I'll just-"

"No, no let me take you!"

Amy lurched at him and tripped. She flung her arms out at him as she fell and ended up sprawled down Fry's front with her hands wrapped around the back of his neck. Fry staggered under the sudden – though minimal – extra weight and almost fell over. He pulled her up very gently.

Amy giggled and hiccuped again. "You know, we could always just head back to my place..."

"I dunno..." Fry swallowed and tried not to think about the guilt he knew he should be feeling. Why did life keep doing this to him? "Yancy seemed a little-"

She shushed Fry and put a finger to his mouth; the touch of her skin on his lips felt like an electric shock. Then she kissed him.

Fry wanted to say he'd tried to resist but it would have been a lie, as he responded to her as soon as her arms wrapped around his neck. After a moment that felt as long as life and seemed far too short they broke apart, Amy gasping slightly, Fry swaying as the mix of alcohol, shock and arousal fought for dominance in his already stultified brain. Her skin was flushed, from more than just the drink now, and her eyes were wide with passion and desire. Fry could barely resist the sight. By mutual consent, arms wrapped around each other, they stumbled toward the travel tube and were almost at the entrance when they heard the loud thloop of an arriving traveller.

Yancy's inert form flopped out of the exit and landed at their feet. He peered up at Fry in confusion.

"Phil? What are all these stars doing in my bedroom?"

Amy giggled again. The mood was broken. They let go of each other so that Fry could kneel down by his brother and pull him to a sitting position. Yancy threw an arm around Fry's shoulder and grinned.

"You're still the bestest brother, Phil, you know that? I always said... well I didn't say..."

"Why don't you save it for... oh. I guess he's asleep."

Yancy's head rolled forward and he started snoring loudly. Amy shrugged. "Robot Arms Apartments. It's on-"

"Yeah, I know, I live there in my universe." Figures he'd end up staying with Bender, Fry thought. "Thanks, Amy."

Fry hefted Yancy to his feet and dragged him into the tube entrance. He waited a moment as Amy stood before him, sadness clouding her face.

"Want me to come along and help?"

"Probably best if you just... uh... head home, I guess."

"Right. I guess I'll see you around."

"Yeah." Fry stepped into the tube and muttered his destination. He felt the sudden whoosh as the tube's anti-gravity system kicked in, and the stomach-dropping lurch as they accelerated up into the tube network. For a brief moment he had the sight of Amy's downcast face looking up at him as she waved goodbye, then the tube rolled them over and away, putting her out of sight.

But not out of mind.


	14. Chapter 14

Tunnels, it was always tunnels and she was running down them and splashing through the muck and grime to escape, and always more tunnels, and arms reaching for her, taking her legs and holding her hair, pulling her back...

And more tunnels as she escaped from the things the arms that wrapped around her and tugged at her body that felt so tired as she tried to escape, down another tunnel and never knowing the way out of the darkness and the despair as she tried to get away from the things behind her the secret things she didn't know and they knew and if anyone found out she'd die...

More tunnels and if she stopped they'd catch her and if she looked everyone'd know and she'd be dead or sent back to the tunnels and the grime and the dirt and never seeing the sun and stars...

And then a wall, and a door, and the things behind her, the secrets and the lies and the terrible truths and she had to stop and turn to see the arms and the hoods and the people that had the secrets and if they knew...

The gun. Where had it come from? She held it up and saw light reflecting in sheer surface and smelled the bitter acrid smoke and it felt right to point it at the secrets, the murderers of her life, the knowledge that shouldn't be...

They were there and calling her name and they had her stuff and saw who she was and photographs and trinkets and everything and THEY WERE THERE...

And he was there and talking nonsense and pulling back the hoods and showing the secrets...

You are a mutant.

They are your parents.

This is your home.

And more tunnels as she ran from the secrets and the lies and how could they do this to her how could they take her life like this she couldn't face them and the gun pulling heavy at her arm and hand.

Abominations.

_Lies._

They had to go.

He had to go.

And the look on his face, pleading and terrified. And the looks on their faces. And the gun, the saving gun, the secret in the tunnels that had set her free spoke to them and they fell to their faces at its words and cried their bloody tears to her feet.

Abominations! Lies!

They all had to go! Every... last... one...

And the gun spoke.

* * *

Leela's eye snapped open, wide, taking in the dark ceiling of her bedroom, the faint light inching beneath the blinds, the dryness of her mouth. She squeezed her eye shut again as a raging headache announced itself. God... what did I drink last night?

"What a nightmare," she muttered, pressing a cool hand to her forehead. She looked around the room again, weighing up. Had it all been a dream? Here, in the pleasant twilight of her bedroom it felt like it could have been. But it all seemed so real... and that last part, it just didn't-

She was suddenly overcome by a terrible nausea as the headache re-asserted its presence behind her eye. Leela stumbled to the bathroom, almost crawling by the time she reached the pan and was just about in place when her stomach gave an almighty heave. That she hadn't eaten much in the last day or so became clearly obvious, but for a minute or so her body refused to believe what her eye told it, preferring to rack her with a series of painful dry-heaves that finally brought up a dribble of bile.

Leela sprawled out on the floor with a quiet groan, holding her head in both hands in a vain attempt to ease the pounding behind her eye. Each time she opened it the walls seemed to be filled with riotous, distorted colour that only made the nausea return with a vengeance, so she kept it shut until, finally, the headache began to fade, leaving behind a faint sense of emptiness like an unfilled void. It felt like heaven.

So. Obviously she was ill and, to judge from the lack of food in her stomach, it had been at least a couple of days. Leela ran a hand across her forehead, searching for any sign of a lingering fever, wondering just what would have knocked her out so completely for so long. And why hadn't anyone been round to leave her flowers or take her to the hospital? Ingrates. All the time spent ferrying their useless asses from one side of the universe to-

The door clicked and swung open, interrupting Leela's inner rant. She looked up. She saw herself. She put her head in her hands. "So much for just a dream..."

"What are you doing on the floor?"

"Deluding myself," Leela answered. She stood up, ignoring another wave of nausea, and staggered toward her counterpart. Brown hair. Strange how it suited her. "I feel like crap."

"You look like crap."

"Gee, thanks..."

"Don't expect sympathy from me," she said, nevertheless taking hold of Leela's arm to guide her back to the bed. "If you hadn't turned up I wouldn't have ended up stuck in that crazy idiot's lab all night. I missed a report. I might get fired."

"You and I both know we're the only person in that place who ever did any work."

"That's not how Ipgee sees it."

"Well it's not... oh, forget it." Leela sat down before her legs could buckle under the strain of standing. She had to eat. Later. "You don't think I'm a clone any more?"

"No. Professor Farnsworth was kind enough to leave us a message."

The ParaLeela pointed at a cheap, oversized holoprojector stood on the far side of the room. Even as she watched the projection matrix began to glow and the machine hummed quietly to itself.

"Oh, there's more," she said. "What a surprise."

"Hey, now, don't be so-" was all Leela could manage before the holoprojector screamed into life. There was a flash of random static and a loud squealing that settled down after a few seconds, then an image of the Professor's lab appeared, super-imposing itself over the room and the far wall. Professor Farnsworth seemed to walk out of the wall toward them, muttering under his breath and staring at a spot just below and to the left of Leela's head.

"Ahh, now this should have activated when both of you are awake," the projection said, looking around the room, or appearing to, before it returned to peering at empty space, giving Leela the odd urge to shuffle over until it was looking at her. "There is something more I need to explain, but it required both of you to be here. Now Leela... the one with the purple hair, that is. So far my scanners have not been able to find a universe that matches your quantum resonance signature-"

"Great," she muttered. The projection continued speaking.

"However I have discovered something quite remarkable, yes. Quite remarkable..." Farnsworth wandered back through the wall and out of range of the view, though his voice was still audible. "I would like to perform more scans at some point, however I can tell you, uh..."

He came back again, clutching a computer notepad, which he peered at before speaking. "Yes. Yes it is quite remarkable. There appears to be some sort of multi-dimensional interface between you and the previous universes you have visited, and evidently between you and your counterpart here, a sort of quantum entanglement on a massive scale. I'm not even sure how it could possibly work. All I can assume is that there is some sort of mechanism that allows your constituent quanta to become entangled as you enter a parallel universe, which allows for all sorts of spooky actions at a distance if I'm correct. Beyond that..."

Farnsworth placed the notepad on a workbench and fixed the air above Leela's head with a steady, presumably portent gaze. "I would hope you two will volunteer for a few more tests. Leela, the purple one, you know some version of me well enough to be able to convince Leela, that is, the brown one, that she's safe undergoing any, eyuh, procedures I happen to come up with. I shall, uh, see you later."

The hologram deactivated, leaving the room strangely dim and bare after the riotous colour of the cheap projection.

"No," Leela said, before her counterpart could ask the obvious question. "He's as mad as a Gundark and about as safe as shooting yourself in the face with a plasma rifle."

"And you work for him?"

"Beats defrosting idiots for a living."

The ParaLeela rolled her eye and turned away. "We're going to have to think of something to call each other. I can see things getting very confused."

"Last universe we were in, I ended up calling you- her, Blue half the time." Her counterpart gave Leela an odd look as they moved into the kitchen. "The hair."

"I guess makes you Purple. I'm not really sure I want to be Brown, though. Coffee?"

Leela nodded. Talking to herself never seemed so strange. No wait, normal. Or... she stopped the thought before it started another headache. "I don't particularly want to be Purple either. That pilot, Veklerov was it? He keeps calling you-"

"Hell no, we're not using that!" She took a prim sip of her drink. "I'm not using anything that man came up with."

"Well... then what?"

"How about Neena?"

"Neena?"

"My middle name." Leela's counterpart looked pensive as she stirred her coffee. "It was on the note my parents left with me at the Orphanarium. I guess they just couldn't decide which one to use."

"I never had a middle name." Leela sighed. Obviously this version of herself hadn't met her parents, but she wasn't sure whether this was a good or bad thing now. Leela could still remember life before she'd found them, always wondering if she was alone but, in some sense, not wanting to find out because if the possibility of disappointment. It had been eating her up inside in a way she hadn't even realised until she found them. on the other hand, some things had been a lot easier. "It's a nice name."

"I use it sometimes when I'm dating. You know, just for a bit of variety, get outside myself now and then."

"That must be nice."

Neena. At least it gave her a means to separate them without resorting to looking at a colour chart. What would you call that shade? Merovingian Steel? She looked up at her counterp- at Neena, and smiled.

"It's mostly for their benefit anyway," Neena said, waving her hand toward the wall. Leela had a strange urge to glance over her shoulder, almost as if she expected to see a crowd of watchers. Of course that was stupid, she meant their friends.

"I guess. Should I let them know?"

"Yeah, if you're heading over there."

"I might be."

They sat in silence again, each contemplating their private thoughts as they finished their drinks. Leela even managed to squeeze down a piece of toast without feeling ill.

"I'd better get to work," Neena said, standing up. She stared at Leela for a moment and then shook her head. "I still need to assess Mr Fry, so... I guess I'll see you later?"

"Yeah, I guess."

They moved into the bare living room again, Leela fingering her clothes with mild distaste as she remembered how long it was since she'd changed. Neena noticed her discomfort and smiled, though tightly, as if she was uncomfortable with what she was thinking.

"You can borrow some of mine. Ours. I... whatever. Just make sure you put them in the laundry when you're done."

"As if I wouldn't." Leela grinned. "Thanks."

Neena nodded, slipping on her cryogenics jacket as she moved toward the door. She paused with her hand on the door-handle, frowning. "You know, whatever that Professor hit us with gave me a hell of a weird dream..."

She stared at Leela for a moment and then slipped out. A second later she returned to switch the light back on and apologise. Then she was gone.

Leela sat down in the single seat and stared at the blank TV screen, trying to clear up her confused mind. A dream. It had to be a coincidence, just the sedatives messing with their minds, nothing more. Though, what had the Professor said about a link? Was he talking telepathy now? Oh but that was just fantasy and hubris, the man could get rapturously excited about a bowel movement.

She tapped her fingers against the chair arm as her mind slowly wound back to normal. Where was Fry? Hopefully he'd gone home with his brother and not that... that Amy. Not because she was Amy, Leela reasoned to herself, because she didn't care about that, but because getting tangled up in a parallel universe was not a good idea. She'd seen the tragedies. She'd seen how torn up Fry had been after dating that robot – entirely against her advice, too. She'd even, at the insistence of William Shatner's head, seen the episode of Star Trek where Kirk went back in time through some sort of smoke ring and ended up having to kill the woman he fell in love with. Of course Shatner had been talking about his supreme acting skill the whole time but she'd got the point, which was that men were stupid and kept doing stupid things.

And Fry was a man, which meant she'd have to protect him from himself if they were going to get home in one piece. He had an incredible ability to get himself and everyone around him dragged into the most dangerous situations imaginable. The last few days were definite proof of that. Somehow it had to be his fault. But, no... that still wasn't fair. It wasn't his fault.

She looked around the blank room, clean now – in fact it had never been mess now, which felt strange in and of itself. The place was intimately familiar but it wasn't home, not really. On top of everything there was something was gnawing at her mind, giving her strange thoughts. It was stress. That was it. Stress over being so trapped. The dream had to be part of that. The gun was obviously her fear about 'Evila', or whomever and the ending was just her blaming Fry for being stuck here. But, what about her parents? Did she blame them too? No that didn't work.

"Just a crazy dream," she muttered, heading back to the bedroom. Perhaps she'd feel better after a shower and a change of clothes.

Yet, the dreamy image of that gun kept coming back to her as she'd raised it toward Fry's face and he'd pleaded, not for his own life, but for the lives of her parents, all the while pitying her for what she'd become. And she'd hated him for it.


	15. Chapter 15

Fry woke to the feeling of someone pawing through his pockets; never a good sign. Had he made it home last night? Well whatever he was laying on seemed fairly soft and warm, which meant either he was on the couch or lying in a garbage bin again.

He peeled open a gummy eye, marvelling at just how light his hangover actually felt, and looked around. He was on the couch in his- in Yancy's apartment, and standing over him...

"Bender!"

The grey bending unit paused for a fraction of a second as his positronic mind attempted to work out a suitable reaction. He yelled in surprise, milling his arms around as he leapt back and away from the couch. Fry sat up and his wallet, so very nearly teased from his pocket, fell to the floor with a quiet thump. Bender watched with a greedy, confused stare as Fry leaned down to pick it up.

"That's my name, skintube." Bender pulled out a cigar, which he clamped in his mouth and lit, a little confidence returning to his posture. "Question is, how do you know it?"

"I'm from a parallel universe where you're my friend."

"That so?" Bender blew a smoke ring around Fry's face and stared at him for a moment, gauging Fry's reaction. "If you're my friend, what's my favourite colour?"

Fry smiled, pulled a dollar bill from his wallet and waved it in front of Bender's face. The robot's eyes followed the note back and forth until Bender shook his head and looked away with a synthesised growl.

"All right, maybe there's something to this," he said, stepping away from the couch. "Let's say you are my friend, and you ain't the stiff... so, what are you, like, his nephew or something?"

"You mean Yancy?"

"Sure, whatever. His uncle maybe?"

"I'm his brother," Fry said, slipping his wallet into a safer pocket. It already felt a lot lighter than yesterday. How many cocktails had Amy managed to drink?

"Brother, huh?" Bender gave him a wary examination, then looked away with the robot equivalent of a shrug. "I never really understood the way you walking giblet bags relate to each other. Anyway, I guess I should say thanks for bringing him home last night. Rent's due," he added, as if to prove his lack of concern, as he walked away. Good old Bender, Fry thought.

Fry found himself alone in the apartment, mostly familiar and strangely different. For one thing there weren't any stains on the walls, which were also painted a nice shade of blue. And there was even a carpet. Why did everyone have carpets? Fry lowered his feet to the soft pile and experimentally wiggled his toes into it.

"First thing I do when I get home," he muttered. A carpet would be way better than picking composite splinters out of his feet every morning. Then again, it'd need cleaning.

He wandered around the apartment, taking in the way his brother lived. Everything was clean, in a way Fry could only dream of managing – if he ever could be bothered to dream about such things when he had more pressing issues to worry about, like where his next beer would be coming from. There were a few personal belongings on a shelf opposite the window. Photographs from Monument Beach and a few other tourist spots, along with a few mementos, a certificate of survival from the Deathball arena – Fry wondered how his brother had got roped into that – a few other bits of junk that presumably had some meaning to Yancy, and then a small blue box that Fry couldn't resist picking up. Fry stared at the box in his hands for a moment, then opened it.

An expensive looking diamond glittered atop a narrow gold band, resting on a deep black velvet interior. It looked like it cost more than Fry had earned in his entire life and probably more than Yancy could have afforded without a huge loan. The stone was mesmerising, and chilling. He'd known at some level that Yancy was going to propose around the Millennium celebrations but he'd not really thought about it until this moment. Fry held the ring up to the light, turning it this way and that to catch the glittering sunlight reflections from its surface, and thought hard about the past, and Laura.

He, Philip J Fry, had married her in this universe. Accord to what he could remember of Yancy's rambling the night before, they'd gone on to found the largest investment company in history, had several children and ended up virtually ruling the world at the head of a massive financial empire. His eldest son had been the first man on Mars. His next had been the commander of the first permanent moon colony. Philip Frys had been famous in almost every generation for nearly a thousand years, in the sciences, and the forefront of space exploration, in wars and peace...

A hand descended on the box, snapping it shut and snatching it from Fry's grip before he could react. He turned to find Yancy glaring distrustfully at him, nursing the ring close to one shoulder. He looked like he was nursing the hangover from hell, too.

"I'm surprised Bender hasn't stolen it," Fry said, trying to lighten Yancy's mood. Yancy just turned away, snapping the box open again to stare at the ring.

"He did. Twice. First time I bought it back from the pawn shop. Second time I took a blowtorch to his head until he gave it back."

"Oh. I guess he got the picture then, huh?"

"No..." Yancy carefully placed the ring-box back in its place on the shelf, before quietly pressing the lid shut again. "Eventually the Professor used some sort of empathy chip on him so he'd learn what it meant to me. I guess it worked. He's only tried stealing my blood since then."

Yancy remained where he was, hand resting on the box, eyes closed, almost as if at prayer. Fry chewed his lip, trying to think, unsure of how to live up to the almost mythical figure he'd become in this world. The room suddenly felt very warm and close.

"Yancy-"

"I'm late for work," Yancy muttered, turning away. He didn't look at Fry. "Guess Leela will be trying to get into my head again."

"Yeah, what is that," Fry asked, following his brother across the room. Yancy shrugged, then headed toward the kitchen – and what a kitchen! – where a pot of coffee was quietly perking. Old-fashioned coffee too by the smell of things. Fry wondered where he'd got it.

Yancy stared at Fry from behind his coffee. "About two months after I got here the cryogenics lab figured I was depressed and started an intervention to-"

"What's an intervention?"

Yancy's stare took on a slightly disgusted cast. He put his cup down and leaned back a little. "It's what they do if they think your career is making you suicidal. I'm surprised they didn't start one for you the minute you arrived."

"So they intervent you and-"

"Intervene," Yancy said, scowling. "How the hell you managed to do what you did back then..."

"Hey!"

Yancy put his head in his hands, a reminder of the hangover he was obviously still suffering. The hard spirits had been the problem – Fry wasn't sure where they'd come from, and didn't remember ordering them, but Yancy had seemed quite keen to drink as much of the stuff as possible. He decided it might be better to stay quiet for a little while and not mention that his own hangover was virtually gone already.

Maybe it'd turn up later, he thought, watching Yancy grimace. Funny, he'd been getting a headache all day yesterday but it was gone now. "You okay?"

"No."

"Want a detox pill?"

"I can't, I'm allergic or something, I always feel like crap when I take one."

"That's usually a sign it's working," Fry said.

Yancy sighed and shook his head. "A thousand years of scientific progress and yet you can't even get a simple aspirin."

"All right, so this intervention..."

"Long story short, they're supposed to monitor and assess me for a few weeks to see if my career is really as suitable as the machine said it was. They said it'd take about three months." He grabbed his coffee and took a deep draught. "That was four years ago."

"So your Leela's been coming around every week for the last four years?"

Yancy nodded. "She keeps finding excuses to get it extended so she can keep coming back. If I didn't know better I'd say it was because of Vek."

"The pilot guy? He was asking me about Leela when we first arrived."

"They had a thing a few years back. Didn't last long. She hates his guts now."

"You two never...?"

Yancy seemed to turn even paler than he already was. "You're kidding, right? Me and some bug-eyed alien?"

"Mutant."

"For all I know she might have an ovipositor and- wait..." Yancy shook his head and blinked. "What? She's not an alien?"

"She... uh... in my universe she's a mutant. I dunno." He shrugged. That usually covered it with Yancy and it seemed to work this time, too. Yancy gave Fry a skeptical look. "Anyway she's not that bad! She's just a little... spiky."

For a little while they sat in silence while Fry mentally berated himself for letting out the 'dirty' secret. Of course nobody would know in this universe. There'd be no reason for Leela to go into the sewers, no reason to go chasing other mutants. All he could hope was that Yancy didn't mention it again.

"Hell, I'm still late for work."

Yancy tossed his near-empty cup into the waste processor and dashed from the kitchen, grumbling, leaving Fry alone for a moment. Fry looked around, tapped his fingers on the worktop a few times while he waited and then quickly grabbed a pile of cookies from under the counter before turning to chase after Yancy.

He caught up with Yancy by the door. Fry waited, stuffing cookies into his pockets as his brother struggled into his coat and shoes at the same time. "Are you gonna help me or something?"

"I'unno," Fry said, shrugging, a cookie half way to his mouth. Yancy snorted at the sight but seemed content to let Fry follow him to work, so he did.

The city seemed brighter than usual as they stepped out onto the sidewalk, though that was probably just Fry's memory of the last universe playing tricks on him. Nevertheless, he spent a fair amount of time just soaking up the sun, even walking with his eyes closed for a while, until Yancy suddenly grabbed him and yanked him back from the edge of the sidewalk. Fry opened his eyes to see a garbage truck speeding past inches before his face.

He rubbed his arm after Yancy let go. "Thanks, bro..."

"You should watch where you're going," Yancy replied with a brief frown. Fry could almost see the thoughts winding through his head and figured talking back would only cement the impression. At least this time.

Fry couldn't help but think that Yancy was trying to work out how he'd survived so well in the future. He'd said as much already, but it was annoying to realise that his brother thought so little of him even, even now. On the other hand he wasn't saying anything about it, which was a pleasant change from the usual carping he remembered.

The lights changed, letting them cross the street unmolested by the passing traffic. Further along the road Fry saw their destination, a graffiti-encrusted tube stop, next to a small row of suicide booths that had seen better days. Fry watched as Yancy paused by the booths, staring at them with a vaguely worried frown before he stepped up to the tube.

"Yancy, wait..."

"What?"

"Look, about that detox thing, you really oughta try them again." Fry smiled, trying to put his brother at ease. "I felt like crap the first time I used one, it's normal."

"Oh... I don't know..."

"Better that than having a hangover all day, right?" He punched Yancy's shoulder. Yancy just looked at him disdainfully, but then gave a tight nod. "Great! There's convenience store down the road, we'll get some there."

"You're sure this will work?"

"Hey, what could go wrong?"


	16. Chapter 16

"_You had to say it, didn't you!"_

Fry sat in the short corridor outside the Planet Express staff bathroom, one foot up on the wall, trying not to listen to Yancy's pitiful retching on the other side of the wall. He sighed.

"How many times can I say I'm sorry?"

"Not enough!"

Fry sighed again as Yancy resumed his all-too-noisy evacuations. The pill had kicked in just as they'd reached Planet Express. That had been almost an hour ago. He stood up and paced the corridor a few times, wondering if this was how an expectant father felt... but no, they'd probably have something good to look forward to. All he had was Yancy. Angry, ill, Yancy.

He looked up and waved at Amy as she came down the corridor. "Hey."

"Hey yourself. What's up?"

"Oh..." Fry pointed a thumb over his shoulder at the bathroom door. "Yancy."

"Hangover, huh?" Amy consciously stayed away from the door, though Yancy had quietened down a bit now. "Let me guess, you got him to take a detox pill, right?"

"Yeah, how'd you know?"

"On our one and only official date he got a tiny bit drunk." Amy leaned against the wall, smiling just a little as she thought back. Fry wasn't sure if he wanted to hear about his brothers dates with Amy. Or... date. Singular. That was good wasn't it? "Next morning he took one of those pills and ended up on the pan for the rest of the day."

"Oh. Now I feel terrible."

"I'm sure he feels worse," Amy said with another grin. She stepped away from the wall and turned back the way she'd come. "Catch you later, huh?"

"Sure... Amy, wait a moment." Fry jogged down the corridor, conscious of leaving Yancy behind. It'd only take a moment. Amy waited for him at the end of the corridor. He suddenly realised she was wearing pink. "Uh... look, I'm gonna be around for a while now, I guess, so I was wondering if you wanted to go out again tonight. Just a drink or... y'know. Stuff."

"I'd love to, Phil, but I already have plans tonight."

"Oh..." Such was life. Fry's only consolation was that she actually looked crestfallen. Perhaps it was for the best anyway. Leela would kill him if she found out he'd asked Amy on a date. "Well."

"Oh, you don't understand, it's not that I don't want to. It's a company thing, something to do with Seymour and Butes I guess, but the Professor is going to some sort of conference and then we're all going out to a meal afterwards." She smiled coyly and took his hand. "You can come with me to that, if you like... and then maybe after we could head back O'Grady's and start over where we left off last night."

She let go of his hand, winked and turned away, leaving Fry a little confused. As usual. No, a little more than usual. It took a moment to settle in, then he felt as if he'd have to join Yancy on the toilet as a spurt of adrenaline suddenly decamped to his stomach.

"I heard that, you know."

Yancy's voice had a strange, echoing quality to it from the various walls and vents it was bouncing off to reach Fry's ears.

"Does it matter?"

The door slid open. Yancy tottered out, pale-faced, leaning on the door-frame for support as he looked down at his brother.

"Just be careful with her, Phil. She's the only friend I've got in this god-awful place."

"Amy?"

"Yes, Amy!" Yancy slumped down on the floor beside Fry with a grimace and a sigh. He didn't seem able to work up any anger toward Fry. Weird. "I don't want to see her get hurt."

"You think I'm going to hurt her?"

"Not on purpose, but you can be such a screw-up-"

"I don't have to listen to this." Fry made to stand up, but Yancy grabbed his arm and pulled him down again. "Yancy, come on."

"Phil, just listen to me for a moment."

Yancy grimaced and held onto his stomach for a minute before speaking. It was enough time to let Fry calm himself down just a little. Enough that he didn't feel like punching his brother in the face any more. Fry waited for Yancy to compose himself again. His brother seemed determined to hold back whatever was battling away in his stomach, long enough to deliver whatever advice he had in mind. He looked Fry in the face and even tried to smile.

"On the way home you started babbling about the 'last time' you were with Amy, and how you'd dumped her and ended up crying on her shoulder or something." Yancy gave Fry a steady gaze for a moment or so before going on. Fry could almost feel Yancy's eyes burrowing into his mind. "Like I said, she's the only friend I really have around here, and she stayed my friend even after... even after I acted like an ass toward her. Whatever you do, just... don't hurt her."

Fry couldn't think of anything to say. He watched, almost in shock, as Yancy hauled himself upright and stumbled back into the bathroom, locking the door behind him. Yancy would never have admitted something like that in the old days, not even if the world depended on it. Fry couldn't quite believe...

He stood up, listening. Yancy was quiet now, though it was likely that wouldn't last for long. Fry didn't want to wait around for that, though, so he set off down the corridor toward the employee lounge, where he could at least entertain himself with the television. Fry idly wondered if the All My Circuits plot would be the same here as at home. Then again, it wasn't exactly creative television, so it probably wouldn't make much difference if he saw things out of order. Fry whistled to himself, feeling happy for the first time in days. Not even the thought of Leela's stressed grumbling could get him down now.

It was odd, but having Yancy around felt right, somehow. His brother was overbearing, rude and opinionated but having him there made Fry feel at home, really at home, for the first time in nearly six years. If he had to be stuck anywhere, he thought, there were far worse places he could have ended up. Fry smiled to himself, whistling a little louder as he rounded the corner to the employee lounge.

He didn't notice the odd creaking noise from a vent near the floor, nor see the single eye glaring malice at him from behind the grille. And if he heard the laugh, well... it was an old, owl-infested building with walls about as thick as paper. Odd sounds could come from anywhere.

* * *

They could, for example, emanate from the laboratory, where the Professor was conducting his latest pointlessly complicated and needlessly explosive experiments, much to the chagrin of those seated at the conference table.

Leela had entered after Fry and consciously sat herself on the far side of the table from him. Or possibly Veklerov. Whatever the reason, she refused to look in Fry's direction, keeping her eye fixed on the centre of the table. Right now that suited Fry just fine, since it meant he wouldn't have to try and explain his mind to her, or listen to her explaining how wrong he was all the time.

Veklerov, who had spent the last few minutes reading, with his feet up on the table, sat back with a grunt. He lowered his feet to the floor, threw his notepad on the table and turned to Fry.

"What have you done to my delivery boy?"

"I..." Fry paused as another series of explosions echoed around the building. "I sort of got him ill."

"It was a detox pill," Amy added, touching Fry's arm and smiling. Veklerov shook his head.

"That was a stupid thing to do, wasn't it?"

"Hey it's not like he knew," she exclaimed, wrapping a protective arm around Fry.

Fry glanced guiltily at Leela, but she seemed to have her mind elsewhere. She looked at Fry without seeming to see him, then let her gaze linger on Amy for a moment before turning back to stare at the table. Fry couldn't figure it out, it was almost like she was turning into-

"Blue," he muttered. Leela started. She stared at Fry, at the way Amy was holding onto him and seemed to grow just a little smaller at the sight, almost crestfallen. Fry could see that crease in her forehead again but he wasn't sure what to do to appease her, stay or move. Either would be taken as an admission of some wrong.

Leela abruptly turned to look at Veklerov. "Fry has the same career chip. He'll be able to take over for this trip."

"Ahh kakogo chyorta, what the hell..." Veklerov made a note on his pad and tossed it to the table again.

"I'll go and-" he and Leela both said, standing. They looked at each other, Leela looking faintly embarrassed, Veklerov wearing a smug smile. After a moment Leela slumped back into her seat.

"I shall go and prep the ship. Come along, Philip Fry, time to play among the stars."

Veklerov's smile widened a little as he descended toward the hangar floor, whistling to himself. A moment later Leela lowered her head to the table.

"I hate this place..."

Fry finally shrugged Amy's hand from his arm and started to move toward Leela but, before he could reach her, she stood up, deliberately looking away from Fry as she walked back to the employee lounge. A moment later Amy got up and followed her with a concerned expression on her face. He wondered what she would do in there. Fry didn't particularly want to be around for that explosion.

"Boy!" Veklerov's voice echoed up from the hangar, jolting Fry's attention away from the women in his life. He walked down to the hangar floor.

Veklerov was waiting by ship's gangway, staring at his watch. "You're making us late."

"Does it matter?"

"Matters to me! Get inside and make sure package is secured," he growled, before stalking off to walk around the ship. Fry rolled his eyes and started up the ladder.

Inside, the ship was similar to the one at home, though some things – as always – were different. There was more clutter, more open panelling and visible ductwork, as if someone had been slowly modifying the interior and forgotten to put the bulkhead panels back in place. The ship felt closer and narrower too, with conduits and cables snaking along the walls in some places, and odd – though secured – piles of equipment sitting in the companionways.

Fry reached the cargo bay and finally found out why. It was huge, far bigger than the one they had at home. It took up two decks, squeezing everything else on deck two into the spaces normally taken up by the galley and part of the rec room. There was a half-sized cargo lift secured at around the same level as deck two, with another half-lift pushed right up against the ceiling.

And all that space for the package, a tiny cardboard box wrapped in brown paper which he eventually spotted resting in the middle of the deck. Fry shook his head as he leaned down to examine the package. It wasn't ticking and it didn't seem to have any sign of being dangerous or volatile but, just to be safe, he dragged a webbing net over it and tied it securely to the deck.

He was just examining a safety notice pinned haphazardly to the forward bulkhead when Yancy stumbled into the cargo bay. He took a surprised double-take when he saw Fry.

"What are you doing here?"

"I could ask the same sort of question. Um. Thing."

"Great, here one day and you're already stealing my life from me. Again." Yancy leaned over the package. "Huh, looks like I don't have much to worry about after all."

Fry leaned forward to watch Yancy as he knelt down over the package and started adjusting the webbing. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"This, here," Yancy said, pointing at the straps. "You forgot to plug in the conforming web."

"The what?"

Yancy sat back, holding up a plug attached to the webbing. He pushed it into a socket inside the strapping ring on the deck. The webbing twitched and rapidly tightened up, conforming itself to the shape of the package.

"That," he said, standing up.

"We don't have anything like that back home."

Yancy didn't manage any more reply than a raised eyebrow before the main airlock sealed shut behind them. The cargo bay filled with a loud hiss of venting air as the ship sealed and pressurised, preparing for take-off. Yancy's face paled at the sound. He stumbled toward the airlock and thumped his hand against the release, moaning quietly when he realised it was sealed and locked.

"Yancy?"

"I knew I should have stayed in the bathroom. Oh god..." Yancy slumped down on the floor, holding his head with one hand and his stomach with the other. He groaned when Fry tried to help him up again. "I need to get out of here!"

"We'd better go up and tell the scary Russian to let you off."

Yancy bit his lip and nodded as Fry hauled him to his feet. With great care they made their way up the ladders to the flight deck. Fry briefly took in the truncated crew spaces on deck two as they passed by, wondering how anyone could live with being so cramped together.

"Oh, there you are." Veklerov turned in his seat and stared at Fry, then at Yancy as he emerged, swaying, from the steps. "And Yanchovich! I thought you were making govno eh? Feeling better now? No? Oh well, no matter, you go sit by scanners, brother go sit out of way and... what?"

"I think he needs to see a doctor or something," Fry said, glancing at Yancy. Veklerov laughed and slapped his knee.

"Doctor! No chance, we're late already. He can go lie down or take a crap or whatever he wants when we're in space."

"But-"

"Sit!"

He turned his back to them, humming a loud, tuneless song as he powered up the ship. Fry and Yancy shared a look and then skittered for the seats either side of Veklerov.

There was more, Fry noticed as he sat down. At some level he'd always know that either he or Bender was essentially useless on most trips, but it was made obvious here, with the radio and scanner consoles incorporated into a single unit. The other console was little more than a remote terminal and writing desk. It even had a little poise lamp folded away above it.

Fry stared around the bridge, taking in the changes, the efficiencies, not to mention the open clutter that Leela would never have tolerated. He didn't have much time to appreciate the differences though. There was a familiar rumble as the ship lifted up on its launch ramp, engines whining, preparing for launch. A warning light caught Fry's eye as it began to flash on the overhead display.

"Is that meant to be flashing?"

"Is number three fuel injector, no problem. Ignore it!"

Fry watched the final launch countdown and tried not to think about exploding engines. The injectors were important, weren't they? He glanced across at Yancy, who was gripping the arms of his seat, breathing heavily, and wondered if perhaps his brother had more reasons than normal to worry. Then again, their own ship hadn't exactly been the best maintained what with Hermes' constant refusal to budget for anything but new paint-jobs.

"Rock and roll," Veklerov muttered. He jammed the throttle up to the stops. The ship leaped from its cradle.

Fry grunted in surprise. The g-forces were incredible, almost as if someone had turned down the gravity generator. He felt his body crushing into the seat and could hear things rattling as the ship shook. Then the light began to shift; they were spinning. Veklerov let out a whoop as he rolled and looped the ship through the air.

Then suddenly it was over. The atmosphere receded, the stars faded into view and the ship flattened its course away from the earth. Fry let out a huge sigh and slumped forward in his seat.

"I'll never complain about Leela's flying again," he muttered. Yancy snorted something at him, probably an insult of some sort, but he couldn't hear it. By the time Fry turned to ask what it was Yancy was up and out of his seat, face pallid but determined as he staggered toward the Head.

The ship was quiet now, just the quiet, regular tick of the main computer letting Fry know it was even alive. Veklerov was poring over his console, making more notes into another notepad while he adjusted the computer. Then he sighed and leaned back with his eyes closed.

"So you think Sirochka Leela flies better than me, eh?" Veklerov shook his head with a wry grin. "Never saw her as the flying type, she doesn't have the yajtza for this sort of thing. No adventure."

He stood up and paced around the bridge, finally settling on one of the consoles. "Tell me about your Leela, then. She has more adventure in her, does she?"

"I guess..."

"You two aren't lovers?"

"What kind of..." Fry paused. He could answer, but he wasn't sure where this line was going. The guilt he felt gave him some idea, though... was he jealous? Of Leela? "No. No, we aren't."

"Splendid!"

Veklerov returned to the pilot's seat and activated the autopilot, then returned to his perch. He stared at Fry for a while, not speaking. Just staring. Was he trying to work something out? Oh crap, was he some sort of telepath, trying to read his mind? Fry tried to think about things that would scare him off until he remembered that telepaths didn't exist.

He tried smiling at Vek to put him at ease, but the pilot just continued staring at him. "What?"

"What what?"

"You're staring at me," Fry prompted. Veklerov just shrugged and nodded. "Can you stop?"

"Of course I can," he said, still staring. Fry grunted and spun his seat away from Veklerov's gaze, but he could still feel it, somehow, burning into his back like a laser. He turned back. Veklerov grinned.

"Where are we going anyway?"

"Ceti Alpha. Some sort of worm infestation, we're taking a new pesticide sample." He finally turned away, picking at a loose seam on the console to his left. "Should be about ninety minutes each way. So would you be jealous if I took her?"

"Uh?"

"Your Leela. I assume since you two aren't making the beast of the backs..."

The stare remained as Vek's voice drifted away and Fry couldn't think of anything to say. Was he jealous? What sort of question was that? "We won't be here for very long."

"You are an optimist if you think the Professor will actually find you a way home. No you are here for good, my friend," Vek said, leaning forward just a little, his face serious. "And I see from your face that you have reasons to be happy from this."

"I dunno."

"Oh you do. A Russian always believes everyone is waiting with a knife behind his back, so a Russian always watches everyone. I have watched you, my friend. You, too, are seeking a second chance to-"

Veklerov bit back on what he was saying as Yancy re-entered the bridge, looking much relieved, if a little queasy. He slumped down in his seat with a plaintive sigh. "If I ever go near one of those pills again I swear I'll just shoot myself."

Fry couldn't help chuckling, which earned him a dirty look from Yancy but nothing more. The pause gave Fry a moment to think, to try and process what he'd learned in the last few minutes. Second chances. He stole another glance at Yancy, pondering. Second chances... Fry had always looked up to Yancy in a way. He'd been rude and overbearing and he'd tried to steal just about every novel idea Fry had come up with, but he was the older brother. There was something about that, a mystical idea of goal to be achieved. Something to aim at.

The thought elicited another chuckle and another dirty look from Yancy. A second chance? Maybe.

A motion in the forward port caught Fry's eye. "Hey look, it's Mars. I went to university there."

"You went to university?" Yancy's voice almost dripped with sarcasm. Nevertheless he stood up and walked over to Fry's side. "I can't really imagine you in a university."

"Eh, I was only there for a few weeks before I dropped out."

"Figures."

Fry walked down to peer out of the window at the passing planet. From up here it looked almost as barren as it always had in the past. Dead. There was almost no sign of the seemingly endless tropical forests that surrounded the university, though perhaps they were on some other side of the planet.

After a moment he noticed Yancy stood beside him. "You know, in my universe, it was my nephew that landed on Mars."

"Your..." Yancy took on a thoughtful look, whilst Fry leaned his forehead against the window. The chilly diamond sheet seemed to send an icy finger down his spine. "I see."

"Yancy, have you ever realised how lucky we are?"

"If you could call this luck..."

"Think about it though. That's Mars down there. We're on a spaceship, we're further from earth than anyone from our time and we got here in three minutes!"

"Just another ball of rock," Yancy muttered, staring at the planet through half-lidded eyes. He turned away for a moment. "Nothing special about it."

He turned back again, narrowing his eyes at Fry and then at the planet. "So you're saying my... my son did it?"

"Well, yeah."

"I had a son..." Yancy bit his lip. Silence. "Where?"

"Oh I dunno. I wasn't really... amazon... planatia... something or other. Near that big olympic mountain."

"Olympus Mons?"

"Yeah, that one. Right there." Fry pointed toward the barely visible peak of the mountain and the broad, carmine-rust surface of the Borealis Ocean still slowly creeping toward its lower reaches. "When I found out about it I went and looked up some of the history. There was this book, The First Man on Mars, with a story about it. I didn't get most of it because I was playing with the little rocket on page three-"

"You learned about it from a pop-up book?"

"The librarian said it was the only thing they had at my level..." Fry frowned. Why did people always think he was so dumb? "Anyway, after he landed they started a city near there. It's called Yancy."

"After my son?"

"No, after you. You named your kid Philip."

Yancy stared at the planet. He didn't speak, or move for a while, he just stared. "Why would I do that?"

Fry shrugged his shoulders and tried not to think about the implied insult in the question. He probably didn't mean it. For a while Yancy continued to stare at the planet as it passed by.

"In your universe, did I do what you did in mine?"

"Yancy..."

"I didn't." Yancy shook his head, shut his eyes as he leaned against the window and let out a bitter sigh. "I knew it. I was just as much of a loser then as I am now."

He turned away and left the bridge again. Fry made to follow, but then paused near the door and turned back, unsure of what he would even say to his brother. After a moment he returned to his seat to stare at the console.

Fry was rudely jerked out of his melancholy by Veklerov's hand clamping down on his shoulder.

"What now?"

"Second chances, my friend, is what I was speaking of. Your Leela, to me, she is the second chance I always craved." He spun Fry's seat around to face him and leaned against the console. "You say you won't be here long but that could change. I am a miracle worker!"

"Why not work a miracle on your own Leela then?"

"Jealous?" He waved a dismissive hand and muttered something in Russian, something Fry really didn't like the sound of. "Pah, she has no taste, no adventure. She only cares about being safe. You head off to cabin now. I'll tell you when we land."

Fry folded his arms, refusing to move from his seat though he wasn't sure why. "I'm not jealous. Leela can do whatever she wants!"

"Ah, then you won't mind if I take her to my-"

"Leaving!" Fry shot up from the seat and sprinted for the door. He stopped in the corridor beyond, breathing heavily. Why did he care anyway? He leaned back around the door and stared at Veklerov. "You know what happened to the last guy who talked about Leela like that?"

"No. What?"

"Well... actually she slept with him. But she really hated him afterwards."

Veklerov just laughed.


	17. Chapter 17

She was lost. Or temporarily misplaced. Leela stared at the wall of the tunnel, trying to recognise the markings and graffiti left by countless mutants over the years that would tell her whether it was familiar or not. The underground works of this universe had cut a vast swathe right through the sewer network and the old city, re-arranging them, making the unfamiliar and new. It was... pleasing, in its way, a novel experience. But frustrating.

It didn't matter too much, she could almost smell the mutants and their hovels, even over the stink of effluent. But, right now, she was lost, deep in the tunnels. She hated it. It was the nightmare returning again for just a brief moment, but long enough to shake her, to bring up images of the past, of what had driven her to-

Leela splashed along another narrow tunnel in a near daze as she tried to thrust the demons from her mind, the haunting memories of what happened in tunnels like these. She almost didn't notice the passage widen out into the vast, open space of the lake – not glowing this time, it seemed – and the mutant village beyond. They'd be here somewhere. They generally were.

She stood on the threshold of the tunnel for a moment, taking in the view. This, at least, was almost the same, or similar enough. The object she was after would be nearby and the place where she wanted to take it was nearer still. Leela backed into her tunnel and backtracked to a side-passage, smaller and leading deeper into the tunnels. She knew where she was going now. Down another tunnel, to the left... it was darker, this far into the sewers, and barely travelled even by the mutants. The first time she'd been here had been during an attempt to escape and it was only chance that had let her find the dank, unvisited maintenance room, deserted and undisturbed for centuries.

There it was again. The door, slightly ajar and rusted into place, just wide enough for her to slip through. Inside was pitch-black, to the point that even her superior vision was almost useless. Almost, but not quite. The locker was here, and the abandoned mannequin-like robot slumped in the corner, with just a few crumbling circuits where its face had been. And then the sealed box. She'd been desperate for a weapon, anything to fend off the mutants hunting her. She'd smashed the box open with the sort of blind optimism-

_- a crunch as the fragile container struck the floor and fell open -_

And there it was, as it had been before. The metal was a little dull, but untarnished despite being centuries old, the seal on the case having kept the weapon and its ammo perfectly preserved. A three-fifty-seven Colt Python II, satin silver finish, nine inch barrel, composite carbon grip. A workhorse gun, the 'premier American revolver', the old advertising literature had said. She'd looked it up on the internet.

Leela carefully lifted the weapon from its protective casing and took out her own for comparison. They were identical of course, apart from the grip, where she could see the same motif that kept turning up in this universe, of the stylised dog and crown. He's been very busy, that boy, she mused, slipping her own gun back into its holster. She pulled the packaged ammo from the case and stared at it. It'd probably still work. Hers had, after all.

With the gun pushed into her belt and the ammo safely tucked into a spare pocket, Leela made her way back out into the sewers. There weren't any mutants chasing her so she could take her time. About now they'd probably be out, scavenging like rats or some other vermin. Leela felt herself sneering and fought a moment to bring her face under control.

The town was ahead again, mostly deserted, but as she always remembered it, a ramshackle collection of buildings assembled from garbage and off-casts. What she wouldn't give for a few gallons of gasoline and a match. She strode down the centre of the main street, ignoring the half-curious stares of the few mutants stood around as irrelevant; she let her confidence tell them she belonged here, and they believed it, because they didn't know how to think otherwise. Who would come into the sewers?

She reached the house, a slum-house, fit for nothing but beggars. It was empty and peaceful, undisturbed. A home for someone. She looked up at it with unconcealed disgust, then pushed open the door and stepped inside. It was the same as always. The same trinkets, scraps of her life plastered across the walls, mementos plucked from the waste, images stolen from any vantage point they could find as they stalked her. She paid enough attention to notice none of them were in colour in this universe, leaving her twin pale-faced and grey-haired, but no more than that. Leela settled herself behind the door.

There wasn't long to wait. They came through the door an hour later, bickering at each other about some meaningless bone of contention, she letting he know exactly how she felt about it and he simply taking it with that vague, tolerant smile, reminding Leela of him. She cocked the new pistol as the door swung shut. The oily triple-click of the mechanism seemed to bring its own unique silence to the room, capturing their attention as surely as if she'd shouted out their names. Both of them turned, hands – or whatever – slowly rising in the air. He frowned, she just looked shocked.

"Hello, mother."

"L... Leela?" She looked mystified as well. Maybe they'd just got back from spying on her sister here and couldn't figure out how she'd changed so fast. "What...?"

"You shouldn't be here."

"Oh. I'm not," Leela said. She pulled out a fresh cigarette and a lighter, enjoying the disapproving looks they couldn't quite manage to hide as she lit it and took a deep drag. "I'm out there somewhere. Enjoying the sun."

"I don't understand..." Her moth- she twisted her brow in confusion as she looked up and down. The other one just stared at her; it seemed now it was his turn to be in shock.

"This isn't how I expected..." he began. Leela shook her head and raised the gun just a fraction. "What are you doing?"

"Exactly what you wanted me to do," Leela said as she moved toward them.

It was ironic, she thought afterwards, that they had always valued their privacy. The soundproofing meant that anyone outside would have heard nothing more than a quiet thump. Maybe they would have seen a flash, but they'd have assumed it was just one of those things and moved on.

Leela held up the still-smoking pistol and stared at it, watched the smoke rising from the barrel toward the ceiling. She inhaled the smell of it, savouring the acrid stench before tossing the gun to the floor beside the woman. What was left of her. The coup de grace was simple enough; a driver's license with his face on it, for some reason she'd always carried it around with her. Perhaps this had been why. Leela delicately placed the card in a convenient hand and closed the fingers around it. She tossed a couple of the spare ammo packs on the floor for flavour and stood back to admire her handiwork. She took a final drag on the cigarette and tossed it away.

The final touch was a notice, quickly scrawled on a piece of cardboard and attached to the door, telling everyone that the inhabitants were on an extended sight-seeing tour of the New Baltimore sewers and wouldn't be back for some time. It'd keep out the idiot locals. They valued privacy. All of them. Except hers.

* * *

The ship thumped down, skidding slightly on its feet as it hit the bare concrete of the hangar. Before the engines had even fully shut down Fry was stumbling down the gangway, grunting as he tried to reach the bottom before his legs gave out. He flopped onto his hands as knees the moment he reached the hangar floor, moaning in sheer delight at the thought of solid ground, though he stopped short at actually kissing it. He was joined a moment later by Yancy who, it seemed, was coping a little better than Fry this time. He squatted down next to his brother.

"I thought you enjoyed this sort of thing."

"Not like that!" Fry got to his knees and stared over his shoulder at the ship, unsure of how to feel about it now. He saw Veklerov emerge from the airlock and look at him for a moment before starting down the gangway. "Is he completely insane?"

"Yes."

"It felt like the gravity generator was turned off half the time."

Veklerov reached the bottom of the step. The pilot shot Fry an odd look as he passed by. "You act like all this is unusual, Philip Fry."

"Well, yeah, when Leela flies we rarely even feel it most of the time. What's that Star Tr- um... thing... the inertial dampeners, that's it, they take care of it. Maybe yours are broken or something?"

"I turn them down to safety threshold, makes flying more fun," he said over his shoulder. Fry and Yancy shared an uncomprehending look as Veklerov's words sank in. Then Yancy suddenly growled and got up to chase after pilot. He grabbed Veklerov's shoulder outside the locker room and spun him around.

"You mean to tell me you've made my job into a hellish nightmare on purpose? You... you bastard," he screamed, winding back his arm, hand locking into a fist. Fry caught him before he could strike, wrapping his arms around Yancy's shoulders and tugging him away from Veklerov.

"Come on-"

"Let go of me!" Yancy struggled and squirmed against Fry's grip, though not hard enough to actually escape, Fry noticed. "I'll kill him!"

"Yancy!"

Fry braced himself and pulled Yancy away. He'd never seen his brother so upset as this before. Never. Not Yancy, who always dismissed things he didn't like with a sneer or just plain pretended they weren't happening. Passive-aggressive was more his style. Fry glared at Veklerov with an unaccustomed bubbling in his gut, until the pilot held up his hands and wandered away, muttering to himself in Russian.

Somehow they ended up in the lounge, which seemed deserted. Yancy slumped down on the sofa next to Fry and stared at the television. He didn't seem inclined to turn it on.

"This place is insane," he muttered. Fry couldn't help but agree, though Yancy just snorted when he did. They sat in silence, watching the blank screen together for a while as the distant explosions of the Professor's experiments began to rock the building again.

"Some things are the same," Fry said as the last ear-splitting bangs rolled away to distant thunder. Yancy just rolled his eyes, though the comment seemed to ease his mood a little. He sat back and stared at the ceiling.

"I guess Leela isn't as uptight in your universe as she is in mine or you wouldn't be so hot on her."

"Oh she can be, when she wants to be," Fry muttered, reaching behind the couch for a beer and not finding any in his usual hiding spot. Of course, it wasn't his hiding spot in this universe. He sighed. "There's times when she can be really caring, and times when she's the best friend I ever had... and then there's times when she's just on my ass for no reason at all, like I'm the screw-up all the time. Or I'm doing something she doesn't think I should be doing. It's like she's mom, only... bossier and younger. And mom wouldn't have kissed me like that."

"At least that means she cares, right?"

"Only when it gives her a chance to screw around with my life."

Yancy twisted his hands together. "Oh," he said. And then again. "Oh."

"That's what it feels like right now," Fry finished. He closed his eyes. "I don't know, Yancy, sometimes it just feels like I'm chasing a shadow."

He would have said more but the door swung open before his mouth could. They both looked up at the same time and saw Leela, brown-haired and frowning a little more than usual, even for her. She stared at Fry, then at Yancy, who closed his eyes.

"Oh," he said again, with more feeling. "Well I guess we'd better get this over with. Usual office?"

"Yes. And I'd appreciate it if you didn't treat this as such a chore, Mr Fry," Leela added, with the inflection of someone going through a very familiar routine. She shrugged off her coat and threw it on the couch, an action that seemed oddly familiar to Fry for some reason. "If you were more cooperative this situation could be resolved much faster."

"Whatever you say," Yancy said, standing up. "See you later, Phil."

"Actually I'd like your brother to sit in on this session. It might be useful."

"Oh. Well... this way."

Yancy lead them both to a spare room next to Hermes' office. Fry had only been in the room once before. He remembered the way Amy had sat on the table, one leg propped on a chair, the other foot firmly planted on the table-top, and felt his face turning bright pink. It was obvious enough for Leela to notice and give him a strange look.

"Are you feeling all right?"

"Just a memory." Fry stared at the floor until he could dump the remembrance. Ironic, perhaps.

"Well, never mind that." Leela sat down at the table and started emptying her case, laying a recorder, some files and a blank piece of paper in front of her. She paused a moment to rub her temples.

"Are you all right," Yancy asked, leaning toward her a little.

"I'm fine, it's just a little headache. Nothing serious," she said, massaging her forehead with the ball of her palm. "Both of you, sit down please."

They sat facing her across the table, Fry a little off to one side, whilst Yancy sat square on, obviously used to some sort of routine in the interviews. Leela examined her paper for a moment before placing them in a careful pile beside the recording machine.

"Before we get started, I have to tell you that, until your brother and his 'friend' leave again I'd like you to refer to me as Neena."

"Why?"

"The other one didn't want to be called 'purple'. Besides," Le- _Neena_ grinned briefly before her customary frown returned. She reached for the recorder. "I've used this name before. Intervention subject one zero five Echo Romeo, Fry, Yancy J. Correlate archive and date. Okay..." Neena shuffled the papers and cleared her throat. "Routine stuff first. Since we last spoke have there been any changes in your demeanour or attitude toward work?"

"No."

"Any alterations in your work practice, terms of employment or working routine?"

Yancy glanced at Fry and rolled his eyes at Neena. "No..."

"Any incidents that have significantly altered your perception of your workplace, employers or co-workers?"

"No. Wait, yes."

Neena's pen halted its scratching against her notepad. She looked up at Yancy with a curious expression. "This is different. All right, when did this happen?"

"I suppose it could have started when Phil got me sick with that detox pill-"

"Hey come on, how was I supposed... uh..." Fry quailed under the combined stares of Neena and Yancy. "Sorry."

"Detox pill?" Neena prompted, making another quick note.

"Yeah, I think I'm allergic to them and I got ill, which meant they had to temp Phil for the delivery boy on the last mission," Yancy continued, rattling his fingers against the table. "So first I figure out that Phil likes his version of this job more than I do-"

"For the record, subject is speaking of his brother from... elsewhere." Neena rolled her eye toward the ceiling. "See new notes and file on Farnsworth, Hubert J for details. Sorry, carry on."

"Right. Okay." Yancy too a moment to compose himself after the interruption. "Right, so Phil turns out to enjoy this work even though it doesn't seem any different, then I find out that Vek has-"

The recorder clicked off. Fry realised he'd had his eyes closed while Yancy was talking – god knew why. He opened them to find Neena gripping the recorder very tightly with one hand, the other wrapped around her pen like it was a dagger.

Neena glanced at Fry, then down at her hand around the recording machine with a narrowed eye. After a moment's hesitation she very slowly peeled her fingers away from the machine. She sat back, trying to appear calm and aloof but the tension in her face was obvious. "What did the idiot do now?"

"He told me he, uh, shouldn't you be recording this?"

"I want to hear what he did to you first. We can make an official recording later."

Yancy fidgeted in his seat, glancing at Fry a few times before he spoke again. "It was... well, Phil was telling me that he enjoyed flying with his version of you and I couldn't quite figure it out. I hate flying."

"With Veklerov? I'm not surprised."

"Right. Anyway, just now I found out that he's been turning the... inert..." He turned to Fry, pleading.

"Inertial dampeners. Star- uh... television told me."

"Those things. He said he'd had them turned down to their minimum safety level, like it's fine to just make my life a living hell so he can have a bit of 'adventure' or something."

"I see." Neena made another note. "How did that make you feel?"

"Well, angry I guess. I sort of shouted at him."

"You nearly beat him up," Fry said. "I had to hold you back or you'd have probably, I dunno, killed him. Or tried to."

Neena wrinkled her brow and wrote something else down on her notepad whilst muttering under her breath. She reached for the recorder again to turn it on but Yancy reached out to stop her. He glanced at Fry again, then gave Neena a long, careful look. "Look... I feel kind of bad about the way I've acted toward you all this time. We're having some sort of celebration dinner this evening, maybe you want to come along?"

"Will Vek be there?"

"Yes, but you'd be with... me..." Yancy swallowed and looked away. "That wasn't meant to sound like that. I mean it's not a date or anything, I just-"

"Sounds like a date to me."

"Me too," Fry added, to his instant regret. Neena and Yancy both shot him another bitter look.

"It's not a date. If it were a date I'd be paying for it rather than the company. I just figure... I don't know what I figure, but... I guess, I guess I owe you for trying to help me all this time. So, you want to come?"

"Pick me up at six," Neena said, brushing Yancy's hand away. She took a moment to compose herself, then turned on the recorder again. "Interview continues. Now as you were saying, Mr Fry?"


	18. Chapter 18

They left the office an hour later, with the interview concluded and a little light chit-chat to round off the visit. Fry couldn't quite work out what had happened; from the moment the tape machine had turned back on Yancy had been different, as if he'd realised something, as if the entire interview, which he'd been moping about for the whole day, was suddenly just a formality to be dealt with. He seemed... he seemed _happy_. Yancy was _never_ happy.

And that was another thing. Fry hadn't seen Leela since they got back, nor could he find Veklerov, which made him just a little suspicious. Not that he cared. She could do what she wanted... even so, he'd walked around the entire building trying to find her and even taken another look in the Professor's huge underground lab though, after arriving and remembering just how large the complex was, he'd thought better of the idea.

The Professor had disappeared while they were in the interview and Hermes wasn't in his office. He'd left a note, though, telling everyone that they were at some sort of a conference and would be arriving at the restaurant. Zoidberg still hadn't turned up either. Even the secretary had disappeared for the day.

"Not invited," Neena said, staring at the empty reception.

"What makes you so sure?"

Neena pointed at a large notice pasted across the wall, inviting Hermes to perform various acts on his own self. Fry hoped the parts written in Neptunian weren't as bad as the parts written in English. There wasn't much else to be said after that, so they let Neena out and waved her off a moment later. Fry leaned against the wall, soaking up the afternoon sun while Yancy locked the front door. Yancy still looked pale but, if he was suffering any after-effects from the morning's trouble, he wasn't showing it.

"So now what?"

"We go home for a few hours. I might just go and lie down."

"We could go for a drink."

"No," Yancy said, pocketing his keycard. And that was that.

They made their way back to the apartment in silence, with Yancy seemingly lost in his thoughts as he walked – though not lost enough to imitate Fry's earlier near-miss. The thoughtfulness remained right up to the lobby door, when Yancy suddenly stopped and turned to look at Fry.

"You said she was a mutant?"

"Uh... yeah. In my universe."

"I thought they were a myth, you know, an urban legend, like the alligators."

"Oh the alligators are real too. The little ones keep coming up the drains and swimming around in the toilet."

Yancy nodded, then shook his head to distract the thought. "Anyway, so you're saying she's not an alien? She's human?"

"I guess... why does it matter? What's wrong with aliens?"

"Like you have to ask," Yancy said as they watched a gelatinous green blob squirm past on the far side of the road. A vague silhouette of some smaller alien twitched in the Blob's interior. "I saw Alien too, you know, and Battlestar Galactica. All that laying eggs in people and weird diseases and stuff, it creeps me out just thinking about it. And the number of times I've nearly been eaten by aliens and monsters on supposedly routine package deliveries... I thought that advert was a _joke_ until it happened in real life." He pushed open the lobby door and headed toward the elevators with Fry trailing behind almost as an afterthought. "But if she's a mutant, then she's probably just a bit of a funny shape or something. She's not going to suck my brains out of my ears or implant her young in my skull or anything creepy like that."

"No, she'll just boss you around and treat you like crap all the time."

"I wouldn't have figured you for the bitter type, Phil. Besides, the way you stare at her all the time kinda makes me wonder if you really mean all that."

"Well... maybe I stare at her so I can see her coming!"

"Nice try," Yancy said as the elevator door opened.

They stepped inside, silent again as the elevator ascended, Fry refusing to look Yancy in the eye. He'd forgotten what it was like to have his brother taunting him about his girlfriends all- "No, no she's _not_ my girlfriend!"

"Phil, I never said-"

"I know! Just stop thinking it!"

Yancy laughed and shook his head, which was scary. So scary, in fact, that Fry almost felt the urge to hit the emergency button and try to escape. Maybe he'd already got some sort of alien in his head. But the he saw that dreamy look on Yancy's face, the one Fry knew _he_ got when he was thinking about Lee- "Dammit!"

Yancy stared at him, eyebrows raised somewhere out of sight as he tried to work out what Fry was doing. "Are you feeling okay?"

"My brain is ganging up on me again. Maybe I need to lie down as well."

Yancy shrugged and turned to face the door, which opened as if on cue, ejecting them into the seemingly endless corridor of their floor. When they reached the apartment it seemed quiet, unsurprising once they found out Bender wasn't home. Fry flopped down on the couch and turned on the television without speaking. Yancy retreated to his bedroom, leaving Fry alone with nothing but the droning of daytime television to keep him company.

Leela – he knew the name she wanted, but he couldn't really think of her as anything else yet – had said yes to Yancy without even an argument. A single question and a single answer and Yancy got the one thing Fry had been after for years. Last time he'd had to write an entire opera just to catch her interest and then, afterwards, things had gone right back to normal again, as if nothing had ever happened.

Every so often there'd be a hint or a lead, but either he'd screw up and say something stupid or it would just end up going nowhere. It wasn't fair!

There weren't any beers in the fridge. That wasn't fair either. And there wasn't any sign of Calculon on All My Circuits, and that wasn't fair either! Fry grumbled around the apartment, pacing between the door and the window on the so-very-soft carpet as he tried to work out how so many universes could be so cruel to him. He wondered if he should phone Leela, but somehow he figured that would just make her mad.

Eventually Yancy came out and shouted at him for making so much noise. Fry hadn't known he was making any, until he thought about it and realised that stomping around the room and muttering things could probably be called noisy. He wanted to be mad at Yancy for pointing it out but it wasn't his fault Leela was being a jerk. Fry settled back into the couch to watch the television, beerless, almost friendless and bored. And then he fell asleep, and stayed asleep until Yancy shook him awake again, pointing at his watch and complaining about the time, and how they had to go and pick up Neena before it was too late, and how Fry was always such a lazy slob. Fry didn't want to see Leela right then. It would be painful. Unfortunately Yancy had managed to get him into a spare suit before he was really awake and, after all that effort, it seemed a waste to fall asleep on the couch again.

So he followed, wondering if he'd regret it, and trying to keep his mind on the moment he'd get back home, or on the end of his opera, or... anything other than the present. Because the present hurt.

* * *

"What about this one?"

"The Gaultier rip-off? Too slutty."

"Slutty?" Leela stared at Neena over her shoulder and tried to think of a retort. The problem, of course, was that she kept thinking of all sorts of great comebacks but when she tried saying them, they stayed in her head. She wondered if Neena was having the same problem. "It's my favourite evening dress!"

"I guess seeing it on myself from the outside brought it home," Neena replied. She folded her arms and shrugged. "It's all those holes it has in weird places, like the side there, and that one down the back showing the top of my butt."

"_My_ butt, and you know very well it's one of John Paul Gaultier's Head's top ten 'attraction zones' guaranteed to keep your man's interest."

"Yeah, that's what I mean. Slutty. It's like something Amy would wear."

"Well that just leaves the black shiny one and this purple one. Oh..." Leela held up the evening gown, ignoring Neena as she shrugged out of her robe and picked up the glittery black dress. "I wore this the night Fry premièred his opera."

"He wrote you an _opera?_" Neena turned away. A moment later she turned back. "_He_ wrote you an opera?"

"Uh... yeah."

Leela held the dress out at arm's length, letting the memory of the opera fill out in her mind. She'd seen, so clearly, sides of Fry that she'd never really appreciated before, things she'd always know were there, lurking behind the dull, trapped-animal gaze Fry usually wore. It seemed so long ago now. What had happened to that moment?

Why had they let it go?

"You wear that one, it goes with your hair better than it does with mine. Zip me up will you?"

"Right." Leela shook her head with the melancholy already fading. She had other things to worry about now, like getting them both home. "So what's the deal with Yancy? From what little I've managed to figure out, you two don't get along too well."

"Until today I would have said we have a purely professional relationship," Neena replied, turning on her heel. "What do you think?"

"From what I've seen he's sort of like a dull version of Fry without the impulsive idiocy."

"Dull isn't quite how I put it, more like a sort of dependable charm. But I was talking about the dress."

"Oh." Leela looked her counterpart up and down. That black dress certainly suited her. "Shiny."

"You know sometimes I wish I'd had a sister," Neena said as she helped Leela zip into her dress. "I kinda like having someone around I can talk to who actually understands me."

"What about Amy?"

Neena stared at Leela. Then they burst out laughing.

They were still giggling at each other when the reached the kitchen. Neena offered Leela a cup of coffee, then poured herself one when Leela declined. They sat in amicable silence for a while, waiting for Yancy to arrive.

"So what's he like?"

"Who, Yancy?" Neena stared at her cup. The odd confusion of talking to herself seemed to surface for a moment but then she smiled. "Staid, quiet. Sort of arrogant but, in a nervous way, y'know? Like he doesn't want to impose it on people but he doesn't know how to stop. There's something about him, though, a sort of determination to be more than he is. He's not very confident, though."

"Sounds like everything Fry isn't."

"I don't know if that's such a bad thing. Your friend Philip might not be so driven but he sure is confident about himself."

"Huh." Leela gave in and reached under the counter for a cookie. They were there. Weird how little familiarities like that could be so surprising. "Confidence isn't enough. I need a man who isn't afraid to take what he wants."

Neena stared at her and then seemed to lose focus a little as she toyed with her coffee. "I've known enough men like that."

"Well..." Leela, vaguely disquieted by Neena's reaction, played back what she'd just said. _I sound like those idiots on Diagnosis Unit Phil..._

"He's cute, too," Neena added.

"Yancy?"

"Both," Neena replied after a moment's thought. "And please don't spit crumbs all over me, they're hell to get out of these optic scales. Or whatever they are."

Leela swallowed and brushed her mouth clean. "Sorry."

"Yancy probably wouldn't write an opera." Neena brushed imaginary crumbs from her dress. "Impulsiveness isn't always a bad thing if it produces something like that.."

"Well you never know," Leela muttered, wishing Neena wouldn't keep coming back to that topic. The dress was bad enough. She wasn't sure why she'd decided to wear it, now. "Maybe he's more impulsive than he looks."

"I don't think so," Neena said. She looked away toward the living room with a pensive stare, biting her lip. "You get to know a guy pretty well when you've spent the better part of four years running psych assessments on him."

"Hey yeah, that's another thing, an intervention like that would have been an open and shut case. A few weeks at most. How come it took so long?"

Neena's face coloured slightly but she just shook her head and refused to look at Leela. Fortunately for Neena the doorbell rang, giving her an escape. She leapt up and half ran to the door, almost tripping on the hem of her gown in her haste to get away from the questions they both knew were rolling around Leela's mind.

She paused at the door to smooth her clothes down and compose her face, then pulled it open. "Hi Yan-"

"_Sirochka!_"

"Veklerov, what the hell are you doing here? Wait, never mind, I don't want to know. Go home." Neena slammed the door in Vek's face and turned away with a growl. The bell rang again a moment later. "I told you I don't want to- oh... Yancy, it's you."

Neena drew the door wide and stepped back to let Yancy and Fry enter the room. Yancy looked about awkwardly, spotted Leela lurking in the kitchen and quickly looked away again. "I, uh... bought you flowers."

"Oh that's so sweet. Where?"

Fry held up his hand. "I kinda fed them to a horse. Sorry."

"My brother."

"I said I was sorry! Jeeze..." Fry moped toward the kitchen. He stopped short when he saw Leela and seemed a little surprised. "Oh... um... Hi, Leela."

"Hi yourself."

"That's a nice dress. Hey, isn't that the one you-"

"Yes, now stop talking about it."

Fry glanced over his shoulder at Yancy before backing away a little. And that seemed odd. He was fidgeting, too, like he wanted to leave in a hurry.

"I saw Veklerov outside a minute ago. He seemed pissed."

"Yeah, well..." Leela shrugged. Fry was staring at her, his expression inscrutable. "What?"

"You weren't... I... I couldn't find you earlier."

"I went for a walk. Are we going or what?"

"What? Oh... yeah, as soon as Yancy does. We have to stop by Amy's place as well."

Leela felt something plummet in her stomach. "Amy?"

"Yeah, she invited me," Fry said, backing away another step. Behind him, Yancy had offered Neena his arm and they were making their way toward the door. They followed a moment later. "Didn't you know?"

"Must have slipped your mind," Leela muttered, feeling strangely numb. She followed Fry to the door and outside into the corridor with its flickering, annoying light, and watched them walk down toward the stairs. "Fry?"

Fry waved his brother to go on ahead and returned to the landing. "Yeah?"

"I... I thought I was going to be there with you."

"Oh, well, Amy invited me."

"You said that already."

"Yeah," Fry said. He rubbed the back of his head and looked away. "Leela, I'm really sorry, I guess I thought you'd be there somehow."

Leela chewed her lip and closed her eye, just for a moment, just long enough to stop the tear. This wasn't how it was meant to go. She'd say stuff and he'd jump at it, like he always did. Wouldn't he? She opened her eye again when she heard the quiet steps of someone coming back up the stairs. It was Veklerov, with a strange smile on his face.

"That's okay, I have a d- a... I mean, I'll be there. Vek!" Leela pushed past a surprised Fry and grabbed Veklerov's arm. "You're taking me to the party tonight, aren't you?"

"I..." Veklerov looked over Leela's shoulder, probably at Fry, with a momentarily confused expression. Then he broke into a broad grin and took hold of Leela's shoulders. "Of course! I had assumed you were waiting up here. Shall we?"

He held out his arm. Leela ignored the strange fluttering sensation in her stomach as she twined her arm around his and resisted the urge to look back at Fry.

"Guess I'll see you there, then," Fry said. He sounded... defeated? No. More like he was disappointed. Serve the runt right for chasing after that little slut- but, no, that wasn't fair to anyone.

"We'll take my car," Veklerov said as Fry stumped away down the stairs. They made their way after him at a more sedate pace. "It is safer than tube at this time of day."

"Oh... sure."

Veklerov smiled and patted Leela's hand. "I am a little surprised at your sudden acceptance of me. I had expected the same sort of behaviour from you as from our own Sirochka."

"I'm not 'accepting' you, I'm just not judging you yet. And I assume Neena has her reasons for that."

"Yes." Veklerov smiled to himself. Not for the first time Leela was struck by how different he was here, in this universe. Perhaps being a clerk at a spaceport had just made him a bit antsy in that other universe. Perhaps. She didn't know him well enough to tell and the last one they'd met for barely an hour.

His car was parked a short distance from the apartments, just close enough to be in reach without actually being visible from the apartment block itself. It was actually quite nice, a lot nicer than she had expected, assuming his salary was anything like hers.

"How can you afford such a nice car?"

"Smuggling," he said, with a grin that didn't entirely prove he was joking. Leela laughed anyway, because to do otherwise would seem rude and she really needed to be at the meal, if just to prove to Fry that he wasn't going to so easily win whatever game he was playing.

The interior was virtually silent once the doors were sealed, giving Leela a strange sense of isolation. She shuffled in her seat while Veklerov started the car and smiled nervously when he pulled away from the kerb.

"There's something I've been meaning to ask you." Veklerov hummed and nodded for her to go on. "Your nickname for, ah, Neena. Serk... er-"

"Sirochka. Is just nickname, ask her what it means."

"She wouldn't tell me."

"That is not surprising either," Vek replied with another grin. He tapped his hand on the wheel and hummed a tuneless ditty. "She has her reasons for many things. They are stupid reasons, but they are hers and since she can kick at head-height I let her keep them."

He chuckled and Leela felt her jaw tighten at the implied insult. She tried to laugh it off but she was already starting to regret this idea.

"So, Philip Fry tells me you two are not lovers."

"You know, I think I can understand Neena's reasons already."

Veklerov snorted. He stayed silent for a moment as the car negotiated a complicated junction. "It is not important. Tell me, do you like to fly?"

"Are you kidding? It's the best thing that ever happened to me."

He stared at her, frowning, before returning his attention to the road. "I expect you cannot fly as well as someone with normal eyes."

"Well now I know how you found out about the head-height thing," Leela muttered. "This was a mistake."

"No mistake, I know why you're here."

"What would you know?"

"I know enough," was the only cryptic reply.

They remained silent until the car pulled up in front of Elzar's restaurant, much to Leela's surprise, as she'd expected something a little more in keeping with the company's finances. Then again, in this universe at least, those finances seemed to be remarkably flexible.

The others were approaching as she opened the door. Suddenly Vek was there beside her, holding out a hand to help her exit, the very model of a charming gentleman. She could see Neena frowning at them and Yancy looking bemused. Fry didn't even look at her.

Vek took her arm and led her toward the doors with a gentle haste, tossing his keys to a valet who approached. As they joined the others Amy came tumbling out from behind Fry and grabbed Leela's other arm. "Oh Leela, you made it! I was getting so nervous, I thought you- uh... might be... y'know, jealous."

"Jealous!" Leela forced out a laugh between gritted teeth. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Amy."

"Oh thank god, I was so worried!" She fell into step beside Leela, one hand resting on Leela's forearm as she spoke. Leela felt oddly hemmed in, with Vek on one side and Amy on the other, and Fry still ignoring her. "After what you said earlier I figured you wouldn't mind, but I had to be sure. I mean it's just, you know, a dinner, nothing special really is it? I love that dress! How long have you had it? It goes so well with your hair!"

And on and on she prattled until Leela felt the urge to throttle Amy with her own pashminah, hanging around her bare shoulders as if to highlight just how bare they were. And she had her back showing. If Fry even so much as thought of touching her there she'd-

"So then, Sirochka, has your little ploy worked yet, do you think?"

"What?"

Veklerov, leaning toward her and just muttering in her ear. When she turned to him there was a faint smile on his face and an infuriating, knowing look in his eyes that made Leela grit her teeth all the more. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Fry looking at her, almost pathetically staring at her the way he did sometimes when he thought she wasn't looking.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Leela replied primly.

"Of course not," Vek replied, letting go of her arm. He smiled and nodded at a passing couple, then at Amy as she moved over to Fry's side. "Your Philip Fry tells me that you two are not attached in any way whatsoever."

"Not as such," Leela said, frowning at Veklerov's smile. What was he getting at?

"He also said he has no particular concern about what you do with your life," he added, with a 'what do you say to that?' look.

"What's your point?"

"Right now? Just establishing where we stand, that is all. Which is apparently a lobby," he added, looking around until he spotted a small bar. "Would you care for a drink before we-"

"To hell with that, what are you after?"

"Oh there's no rush to find that out, Sirochka," Veklerov said. "But I am sure you have already figured it out. Come, we have a party to enjoy, and an ex boyfriend to make jealous, do we not?"

"He's not my boyfriend!"

"That, I think, is rather the point," Veklerov said. Leela threw her arms up in disgust and stormed away.

The nerve of that man! It was almost like dealing with a competent and marginally more charming version of Zapp... Leela found herself thinking odd thoughts at the comparison and shook her head to try and clear them out. She put on a smile as she approached the group's table, found herself a seat in between Amy and Hermes and bustled into it.

"I do hope this seat isn't taken," she muttered as she sat down. Amy seemed too surprised to argue with her and just smiled a wan smile, glancing over her shoulder at Vek as he approached. Fry sat down on her far side a moment later, along with Yancy and Neena. Leela clamped her teeth around a bread-stick lest the urge to say something acerbic overwhelmed her.

Not that it would have mattered, Amy and Fry were completely oblivious to her now. She listened in, found Fry relating some tale of daring-do about... about _her_, complete with zooming hand motions and sound effects. Amy hung on his every word, casting admiring glances at Neena and Leela, and even started clapping when he'd finished.

Leela was about to interrupt when she felt Hermes stand and move away, and someone else take his place. She glanced across the table at Neena, saw the look on her face and felt a sudden, tremendous drop in the pit of her stomach. It was the sort of feeling she got when the ship's engines cut out unexpectedly while landing.

"Hello again," Veklerov said as she turned to face him. "You left in a hurry, so I bought you a drink. Gamma Ray Burster. Your favourite, I believe."

"A... what? What made you think I liked..." Leela's eye was drawn to Neena, who shot her and Veklerov a dirty look before very obviously turning away. This had been a bad idea from the start but, now she knew why. Then again it was already a lousy night already, getting drunk couldn't make it worse, could it? Neena, she could probably smooth things over with. If only she could get Fry's attention away from Amy.

Leela downed the drink in a single swallow. "Oh, that's disgusting..."

"You want me to get you something else?" Veklerov stood to head back toward the bar. She grabbed his arm, tight as she could without breaking it and heard the satisfying sound of an indrawn gasp.

"No, I want you to-" Leela bit her lip. Her voice had been just a little too loud and now Fry was looking at her. In fact everyone was looking at her, just staring, like they were expecting her to explode. Even the background babble of patrons seemed to quiet down a little, instinct for impromptu entertainment directing attention to their table and Leela as they waited for her outburst. Well she wasn't going to give them a show. She put on a smile, placed the glass delicately on the table and folded her hands together. "I'd _like_ you to sit down."

Veklerov sat, evidently unsure of quite how to deal with the situation, yet he still had that infuriating smile, as if the whole thing were one great big joke for him. Leela squeezed her eye shut and wished, hard, _prayed_ even, that the whole thing was just a terrible dream, that she was still at home, in bed, not making a complete ass of herself over an idiot who wasn't even worth her time.

The Professor and Hermes took their seats without comment, and drinks and starters were ordered, easing the tension at the table just a little. Soon the conversation was flowing freely, with the conspicuous absence of Leela, who found herself absently staring at the table-top as she picked at her salad, and Vek, who seemed content to wait in silence.

One minor consolation was that Yancy and Neena seemed to be genuinely hitting it off. Perhaps if Fry had been a little bit more like his brother... she sighed, half smiling as she remembered one or two reasons why he _wasn't_ like Yancy, who seemed rather too staid and unadventurous for her tastes. When Leela turned to peer, Fry quickly looked away and laughed nervously, proving that he'd been watching her, even if it was just for a moment. So that was still the same.

Leela turned her eye toward Vek and his arrogant little smile. "All right then, let's-"

"I think I shall take you flying tomorrow," Veklerov suddenly stated. The table fell silent as everyone turned to look at Leela. It was the proverbial pregnant pause, filled with portent and expectation. "That is unless you're afraid."

"If you think you can bait me that easily you've got even less brains than I gave you credit!"

"Shall we say ten?"

"Perhaps we can say stick it up your-"

"You're just the same," he said, a strange smile playing across his features as he glanced at Neena. For some reason this stung Leela; the same as a woman who had never got the guts to quit her job? Who let the morons at her work walk all over her the way Leela had done up to the day she left? Who hadn't even tried to find her parents...

Vek seemed to realise he'd got to her. He bowed his head slightly, offering up another drink as some sort of peace offering, and she took it and took a sip without really thinking. Vodka. Typical.

"Ten-hundred hours then," he repeated, raising his own glass in a small toast. "Perhaps we shall see what sort of a pilot you really are."

_A damn good one,_ Leela thought. _And better than you ever could be, two eyes be damned._ The conversation around the table resumed in dribs and drabs until their private war was lost amongst the chatter once again, with a noticeable exception. Fry wasn't talking. Oh, sure he could have just been listening to Amy's prattle but, Leela knew, as she turned slowly toward him, it was more than that.

She took another drink handed to her by Vek, not really watching, and downed it in a single swallow. Another one of those Gamma Ray things. "This stuff kinda grows on you."

"Another?"

"God, yes..."

Fry was looking at her without actually facing toward her and his face had a strange, sullen tension she'd only seen perhaps once or twice in the entire time she'd known him. It didn't suit him, Leela thought. His was the sort of face that should be laughing more. When was the last time she'd seen him really happy? For a moment the gown she was wearing seemed awfully tight around her chest. It hadn't been that long, surely?

The next drink came and went and she heard a voice, her voice, saying something about going slow before the food but when she looked at Neena she couldn't tell if she'd said it, or if it was her own conscience prickling. Leela pushed the empty glass away and rested her forehead on her hands, quite certain she would end up making a fool of herself tonight. The one consolation she had was that her headache had finally gone away. It was a cold comfort.


	19. Chapter 19

Dinner, naturally, was as grand an affair as it always could be at Elzar's, but tonight seemed especially so. A full five course banquet, with unlimited visits to the salad bar. The drinks had flowed quite freely as well and by the end of the third course Yancy was pretty sure he'd have to be carried home. Again. He felt his brow twisting at the half-remembered images of Philip dragging him from the travel tube and through the streets to his apartment.

"I don't want to do that again," he mumbled and then realised he was speaking out loud. He looked at Neena. "Sorry, miles away."

"That's not a problem," Neena replied. She picked at her food for a moment before laying her fork down. "You aren't the only one with things on your mind," she added, idly pushing the remains of her steak around with a knife.

There was a giggle; her voice but, not her. Neena drove the knife into a piece of bone, growling under her breath as she ground the knife and bone against her plate. Yancy followed her gaze across the table to Vek and Leela. The latter was obviously drunk and laughing at something Vek had said a moment earlier. Yancy couldn't remember it being very funny.

He couldn't help comparing the two Leelas then. Neena seemed more composed and stable right at that moment, though the way she was gripping her knife meant it was a state that might not last much longer. He touched her arm; Neena jumped as if she'd been stung and turned on him with a growl. "What?"

"I... nothing," Yancy replied. Neena stared at him as if he was speaking an alien language and then seemed to suddenly shrink inside. She put the knife down and reached for her glass.

"I'm sorry," she said, once the glass was empty. Yancy shrugged. "No, I mean it."

She was speaking quietly, just quiet enough to not be heard by the others over the din. Yancy couldn't help replying in the same tone. "I'm not going to pretend I understand what's going on between you two."

"She's embarrassing us both," Neena muttered, stabbing at her food again. "She has to know what an ass she's being, right? I guess the hair isn't the only difference between us."

"I don't know... Phil doesn't look too happy about this either."

"Then he has more intelligence than I would have given him credit," Neena replied, not quite looking away from Leela and Vek. She muttered something under her breath and then fell silent. Yancy wondered if he should take offence on his brother's behalf. Was it worth the hassle? No matter what he chose now he'd end up with Leela annoyed at him. Better the one that was going to leave than the one he'd be spending...

"You know, all this time I thought you were an alien."

"I _am_ an alien, Yancy. Who told you I wasn't?"

"I..."

"If you're worried about weird things I'm completely normal. I checked. Well, apart from the eye and a couple of other little things that don't make any difference, but..." Neena put her knife down, any worries about Leela forgotten as she turned to look at Yancy. "Yancy? What's the matter?"

"Phil said you... he said..." Yancy shook his head and tried to put on his best smile. "It doesn't matter."

"Can't you tell me?"

Yancy bit his lip and tried to think of a reply. Neena's gaze looked worried now and with good reason; at some level he'd just cast doubt over her entire view of the world. She insisted she was an alien but, Phil had said she wasn't, that she was human, however different. Had he been wrong? Yancy could feel his gut cramping up again, the way it had when he'd first stepped out of the tube and realised what had happened.

"Yancy, are you all right? You look a little pale"

"I'm fine, it's probably just blowback from that pill." He downed the rest of his drink in a single swallow and shakily waved at a waiter for a repeat. "I just need a little water, that's all."

"Does it have anything to do with-" she began, only to be interrupted by the Professor rattling a spoon against his cup. Yancy sighed, thanking providence for the interruption. "We'll talk about this later," Neena said.

Farnsworth rattled the spoon some more. He waited a moment for Leela and Veklerov to compose themselves – she was still laughing almost maniacally over something – and then turned to face everyone at the table. "I have an announcement."

They waited. Farnsworth seemed content to stare at his plate until Hermes casually poked him in the ribs. "Eh-what? Oh! Yes, the announcement... I'm afraid I have good news, everyone. Oh and, eyuh, bad news too! The good news is that I have made a remarkable discovery about the quantum fields entangling Leela and Leela here, hyes."

"And the bad news," Amy asked, gently squeezing Phil's hand.

"Well the bad news is that this means I won't be able to keep your Philip here as an organ bank. I was quite looking forward to that new liver."

"I'd hardly call that bad news," Phil muttered. His face suddenly brightened. "Wait, you mean you've found a way home?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes. I discovered that your passage though universes creates a rather bizarre quantum effect that entangles some fundamental aspect of your physical structure with that of your counterpart in another universe."

"Sounds kinky," Leela said. She hiccuped and slipped forward as her elbow bounced from the table. "Scuse me, I'm a little... whatsit the oppose of not sober?"

"No kidding," Neena muttered. Farnsworth stared at them both with a sort of affable, senile grin.

"Well that aside, there are means to harness this effect. Given a suitable scanning device I believe I can find a way to navigate through the universes to your own, making use of this entangling effect and the quantum resonance state of your home universe."

Phil nodded. "Like following a piece of string, right?"

"Well, uh... if you mean nine-dimensional string with multiple strands going in all different directions whilst you have the ability to alter where those strands lead at will, and travel along several of them at the same time then, yes, precisely like that asininely simplistic explanation you just came up with."

"Oh."

Leela seemed to rally then. She leaned back, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "When can we go home?" She pushed her drink away and tried to sit a little more upright. "As fun as it is the novelty of talking to myself is starting to wear thin. No offence," she added with a gentle nod toward Neena.

"Not right away, I need to design a program that can make use of the scanner on that, uh, whatever it is you have on your wrist all the time..." Farnsworth leaned forward to poke at Leela's arm. "And which you aren't wearing right now. Let's say, three or four days at most. And after that you'll still have to navigate your way home through the multiverse, yes... no telling how long that could take."

Leela examined her nails, studiously not looking at anyone else around the table. "Was there any other bad news? You normally hold some back at times like this."

"No, that was all," Farnsworth said. He looked at Phil with a face that just screamed 'loss' and sighed. "I'd always dreamed of finding a relative with no appreciable brain activity. I suppose I shall have to make do with my microcephalic clones instead. Ah well."

Phil turned to Leela for support but she was still too busy staring at her half-empty glass. He slowly turned away, pausing a moment to look at Yancy. There was a moment, a sort of disconnect, and Yancy suddenly felt something he'd never felt before; defensive. Over his brother. It wasn't even remotely normal. "Hey, you know, he's not that dumb."

Farnsworth stared blank at Yancy and then frowned. "I don't quite follow."

"Phil's not, he's... look stop calling my brother names, okay?"

"If you insist," Farnsworth muttered, turning to look at Phil again. He had a pen in his hand. Where it had come, from Yancy hadn't a clue, but it seemed to annoy his brother more than a simple pen should.

Farnsworth leaned back in his seat, musing on some distant and voluminous problem as the waiters came to retrieve their plates. There was little for Yancy to do after that, except wait and see if there was any more food to be brought out. His stomach grumbled at the thought, reminding Yancy he was still not quite over the whole problem of the detox pill.

"I think I want to get out of here." He leaned toward Neena just a little. "If I eat anything more my stomach will explode."

Neena nodded slowly, unable to take her eye of Leela as she finished her drink. Then she suddenly looked away and stood up. "Professor, everyone, it's been a wonderful evening but I'm afraid I have to leave now. And... I think... well. Good night."

She rounded the table in just a few strides, breezing past Veklerov and Leela without a backward glance, ignoring Leela's almost-pleading look. Yancy tried to put it from his mind as he rose to follow Neena. In moments everyone was looking at him with the same curious, almost disbelieving expression.

"I, uh... stomach," he said, giving up. Let them think whatever they wanted to think, he didn't care right now. He pushed his way around the table, patting Phil's shoulder as he passed by. As he reached Veklerov the pilot surreptitiously grabbed Yancy's elbow and drew him a close. He glanced toward the exit and then at Leela before catching Yancy's eye. A grin.

"If you want I can give you a few secrets to get her..." Vek held up a fist and waggled his eyebrows. "Easy, if you know how."

He hadn't even tried to hide himself from the others, in fact he'd spoken loud enough that even Phil had heard, though he made a great show of pretending not to. Yancy couldn't quite believe it himself; and the fact that Leela wasn't reacting... though, to be fair, she _was_ pretty drunk. Maybe she hadn't heard? But Yancy had no idea what was going on now. He looked at his brother, tried to understand the blank anger on his face and shook his head. Women had never been his forte. In fact it had only been luck that he'd ever landed Laura-

Yancy felt his gut tighten at the mere thought of his lost fiancé. He pulled his arm from Veklerov's grip and glared him. "No, thank you."

"Your loss," Vek replied, turning back to his drink. He put an arm around Leela and looked back over his shoulder at Yancy with another leering grin. Yancy ignored him, instead throwing another look toward his brother before he headed after Neena. It seemed Phil was very interested in his plate for some reason.

Neena was waiting for him, which shouldn't have been a surprise. She smiled at Yancy as he approached, though it was a drawn, strained expression, barely recognisable as positive. She kept glancing toward the dining area too, as if expecting someone else to follow.

"I can't believe that creep," Yancy muttered as they retrieved their coats. "Or the way he's treating you, um, the other you. Leela."

"Frankly, if she's willing to put up with that treatment then she deserves it."

"How can you say that about... about_ you?_"

"She's not _me_, she's... and, besides, he... " Neena hunched her shoulders and turned away from him. "You wouldn't understand."

"Leela-"

"_Neena._"

Yancy sighed and nodded. "Fine, Neena." He waited, wondering what to say. "If she's making the same mistake-"

"I did _not_ make a _mistake! _That... that Russian wannabe pilot tricked me," Neena growled. She thrust her arm into the sleeve of her coat, which promptly tore with a loud, crunching rip as the seams gave way. "Great..."

"Want a hand with that?"

"Leave it," Neena said, shrugging away Yancy's helping hand. She pulled the coat on and twisted to examine the tear. The arm was completely ripped off at the back seam. "I don't need you pawing at me over a stupid jacket," she said, tossing the coat into a nearby trashcan.

"I wouldn't be pawing, I'd be... ah, forget it. I've never been very good around women."

"Well that makes a change from my usual dates." Neena looked over her shoulder toward the restaurant and grimaced. Vek still had his arm around Leela's shoulders and seemed to be in the middle of one of his tales. Now and then, Phil would look up from his plate to stare at Leela; and in return, when he wasn't looking, Leela would turn to stare at him. "What is she _doing?_"

"If I knew that I'd be better around women," Yancy remarked. He turned away from the scene just as the party stood from the table, evidently ready to leave. "Do you still want to talk?"

"No... later," Neena said. "Later. Take me home, Yancy."

She turned to Yancy and took his hand with a smile. Yancy wasn't sure what to think until he remembered the tiny knot of diamond resting on a shelf at home. He squeezed Neena's hand once as they left the building, then let go.

Neena seemed to have realised as they reached the tube stop. She paused at the entrance to look at him. "Yancy..."

"I know what you're going to ask," Yancy said, swallowing hard to push back a sudden bout of nausea. Had to be the pills, that was it. Damn pills. "I'm sorry, Neena. I can't."

Neena did a pretty good job of hiding her disappointment but it wasn't perfect. "It's the eye, isn't it? It's always the damned eye."

"No. It's... it's a lot of things. It's me." He laughed. It was nervous, a high-pitched sort of laugh, the sort that normally annoyed him so much. "You've seen my file, right? 'Severe emotional attachment to deceased romantic interest' or, something like that. Having you there every week might have kept me alive but, I'm not over her yet."

"After all this time, I'd kind of hoped..."

"I'm sorry."

Neena nodded quietly, blinking back a tear. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow, then. I still need to follow up on some assessment stuff."

"Sure."

Neena stepped into the tube stop and muttered a destination. She turned to wave at Yancy as she was sucked into the network and promptly disappeared, leaving Yancy alone in the twilight. He kicked at a stray stone and sighed, then turned to walk away from the tube.

Something stopped him. Not the thought of walking back to his apartment, though it was quite a distance. Something. There was a suicide booth up ahead, looming out of the shadows like some monolithic grey tombstone. They'd been around him ever since he'd arrived, taunting him with their presence, the easy escape they offered.

Yancy turned to look at the tube again, rising into the night like a pale green, glowing road to infinity. He turned away from the booth, walked back to the tube stop and looked up at the single tube, tracing it's path until it was lost in the city. She was still transiting. If he left now...

"To hell with it," he muttered, stepping into the tube.


	20. Chapter 20

Leela was drunk and she knew it. That was the worse part, knowing it was so and not being able to do anything about it. It was making her do things, stupid things, like being a complete ass toward Fry, thinking bad thoughts about Amy or not beating this Veklerov idiot senseless for the way he was touching her arm all the time. Not that she'd have been able to do it in her state, Leela realised. She was so far gone that she'd had to make at least three attempts to stand after the bill had arrived, drawing a sympathetic murmur from Amy that left Leela feeling highly embarrassed. Fry hadn't looked at her. Well let him be all high and mighty and remote and, and whatever the hell he was, god-damned selfish no good bastard letting her make a complete fool out of herself just so he could, what, prove he was _better_ than her? To hell with that!

It was only the knowledge that she'd not be able to finish the sentence that actually prevented Leela from spitting it all out. Besides, it'd only prove him right.

"Leela, I would like to have you in tomorrow for more tests," Farnsworth said as she finally managed to haul herself upright. Leela swayed slightly as she peered at him. What else about tomorrow was so important? Oh yeah, the russian wanted to prove he was a better pilot than she was.

Leela giggled at the thought and then quickly stifled the laugh, knowing even as she did it how incredibly dumb she looked. She vainly tried to focus on the Professor's face and his all-too-shiny forehead and that nose just like Fry's... "What?"

"I said, would you prefer to wait?"

"I'm nearly ro- n... no, I'll be there, I just need to Fry... fly... _lie_ down. For a bit," she added, trying not to sway again.

"Well, of course," Farnsworth replied. "I shall see you and yourself bright and early."

He left then, with Hermes following dutifully behind, already filling in the expenses claim for the meal as he walked. Somehow that seemed very impressive, though Leela could no longer work out why it should be so. She stumbled away from the table, ignoring the first tiny bout of nausea that was the inevitable result of her excess.

Somewhere between the table and the lobby she lost her footing. Leela fell forward, unable to properly will her arms out to break her fall, until a hand caught her arm. No, both her arms. She was hauled upright, suspended between Veklerov and Fry, who were staring at each other across her face.

"I have her," Veklerov said, tightening his grip on her arm. Fry glared.

"She can look after herself."

"I think we can both see that is not the case." Veklerov tugged at Leela's arm, not-so-gently easing her away from Fry's grasp and Leela, not thinking, flexed her arm to break Fry's hold on it. She saw Fry stiffen and draw back, but her mind was so dulled by the alcohol that she couldn't even work out how to respond before he'd turned away.

"Fry?"

His pace faltered. For a moment Leela thought he might turn back but, no such luck. He kept walking, away from her. For some reason that seemed very important yet, she suddenly had no idea why. And all she wanted to do was lie down, fall asleep.

There was an insistent pressure on her arm. Vek, leading her away. "Come, Sirochka..."

"What..." she lurched back from the pilot and stumbled against a table. And there was Fry again, looking at her, confused and... well nothing else, really. She lurched toward him, getting her foot tangled in the hem of her gown."Fry, wait, please."

He didn't stop. Leela kicked out at the hem of her gown, accidentally knocking a chair on its back in the process. "Dammit!" And still he didn't stop or even look at her. She took a step, adrenaline surging through her body thick enough to sober her up, then stopped. "Well... well fine, you go off and leave me here! Dammit, Fry!"

"Leela." Veklerov again, pulling at her arm. She shrugged him off and stalked from the restaurant with the pilot trailing behind her like a rejected puppy. "Leela?"

"Go home, Vek."

"In a moment," he said, following Leela out onto the street. They both stopped then, Leela shivering slightly in the cool air. She wrapped her hands around her bare upper arms, bundling up against the light breeze and the chill night. The cold was enough to bring her mind somewhere back to normal, though Leela could still feel how sluggish her thoughts remained.

She'd actually done it. She'd actually managed to turn him away, after all this time, and all it had taken was acting like a complete jerk. Leela shivered again as the wind gusted down the street, carrying a swirl of leaves past her. Then, she felt an arm slipping around her shoulders and turned to look at Veklerov, smiling benevolently at her. Normally it would have been Fry's homely face peering at her. Leela felt something twist just beneath her heart.

"So, the ploy, I assume, didn't work?" Veklerov started walking Leela toward his car, parked a short distance away with a valet waiting alongside. "It is the way of things. Men such as your Philip Fry don't react to well to tricks and lies or those other things you women are always so famous for, though choosing me as your fake date... it has a certain poetic justice, I suppose."

A shrug. Leela felt another twinge of nausea, though whether it was brought on by the drink was hard to tell. "You seem remarkably confident in yourself."

"Oh, I am. You see, your choice wasn't accidental, Sirochka. You knew you would need someone to comfort you once the inevitable betrayal occurred and so, here I am."

"I don't think so."

"Hm?" Veklerov turned to watch Leela shrugging his arm from her shoulders. He smiled, but he was confused. "I know I seem a little forward-"

"You think I'm going to sleep with you just because I screwed up with my friend?"

"Well, no, I-"

"Forget it, Veklerov. Whatever mistake Neena might have made, I'm not going to make it as well. Good night."

She turned to walk, and was satisfied to hear Vek's heavy footfall behind her a moment later. "Leela, wait."

"Why?" Leela rounded on Vek, catching him off balance so that he stumbled against her as he tried to stop. She grabbed his lapels and hauled him upright. "I just had my best friend look at me like I was the scum of the earth and it's not put me in a very good mood so explain, in very small words, just why I should wait for you."

"I have a foolproof way of proving you are not... 'scum', as you put it," Veklerov said, gently removing Leela's hands from his jacket. He brushed himself down, smiling at her again. "We could go back to my-"

"Oh _hell_ no!" Leela shoved the pilot away and began to retrace her path from the restaurant.

"It will happen to every friend you have," Veklerov shouted when she was a few paces distant. "You can't have friends, not when you give them orders! They betray you! Every single one!"

Leela stopped again and turned to face Vek. She folded her arms. "Lonely at the top, huh?"

"One captain to another," Veklerov replied. "You know it is."

"I've heard that one before," she said, advancing toward him again. "You know what I did to the last guy who used that line on me?"

"Oh, your _friend _Philip Fry told me you slept with him. I figured..." he paused, smiling as Leela put her hands on his shoulders. "So it does work? Well-"

"No... I'm just getting your guard down so I can do this." And then she drove her knee into his groin. Veklerov's eyes bluged and his face turned a deep crimson. "God only knows why Neena didn't do that to you years ago," Leela muttered, watching Veklerov collapse in a gasping heap on the floor.

Leela turned away, then, leaving Vek whimpering on the floor, her satisfaction marred only by the thought of where he'd got his information from. Why would Fry betray her like that? What else had he told?

"Guess you were right about some things, though," she whispered as she entered the tube stop. For a moment she thought she saw Fry in the distance, standing outside the restaurant, but it was just a trick of the light. "So much for friends."

* * *

Yancy found Neena outside her apartment building, leaning against the wall with a peculiar smile on her face. She pushed off and walked over to Yancy as he stepped from the tube stop.

"You took your time." She stopped a short distance away, hands on her hips. "I almost gave up and went to bed."

"I won't ask how you figured I'd be here."

"Remember who wrote your file."

Yancy nodded. "I remember."

They stood awkwardly staring at each other for a moment until Neena took it on herself to take Yancy's hand. "Want to come inside? I know it's a bit late for coffee, but... or we could just talk," she quickly added when Yancy frowned. He forced himself to lighten up a little and even managed a smile.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'd like that. Somewhere quiet."

"There's a park nearby, I think it'll still be open."

They walked down the street, hand in hand and not saying anything, until they reached a small square park. It was barely worth the name, little more than a patch of trees and grass, though it did manage to fit a reflecting pool near the middle. Neena led Yancy along a winding path beneath the trees that seemed to go on for much further than was strictly possible in the tiny park, still in silence, with nervous glances at each other every now and then.

Eventually the reached a small Orientalist bridge that arched from the shore of the pool to a little island in the centre, complete with a weeping willow and a clump of gently bobbing bulrushes. Yancy paused on the bridge and looked up at the stars.

"Huh."

"Seen something?"

"I just realised, there's probably someone living around nearly every single star up there," Yancy replied. He slowly turned to take in the sky, eventually settling to look at the half-moon as he leaned on the bridge railing. "I've never really looked up at the stars. I mean, not as anything special, it's always just been a bunch of lights in the sky. I've barely even seen _this_ planet, never mind all of those," he said, waving his hand across the sky. "Having adventures in space was more Phil's thing."

"I look at them all the time." Neena, too, stared at the sky as she wandered across to the island. She paused beneath the tree, her eye fixed on a star shining between its two largest boughs. "My parents are out there, somewhere. One of these days I'll go and look for them."

Yancy joined her, sitting down under the tree. The grass was damp from an early dew and a faint mist was starting to shimmer on the water's surface. After a moment's thought he laid his jacket down on the floor for Neena to sit on and beckoned her over.

"So, you wanted to tell me something," Neena said, once she'd made herself comfortable. Yancy sort of nodded his head, unsure of how to reply. When it had come to his brother's dreams it had always been easy to dismiss them as meaningless fantasies but, with Neena, he couldn't do that. And yet Phil had been right, and Neena was...

"What if I told you they weren't as far away as you thought? Your parents, that is."

"What do you mean?"

She looked at him with a curious half-smile. Yancy rubbed the back of his head and looked away as the magnitude of the decision he was taking settled on his mind. "Phil told me something yesterday, about his universe. About where you come from."

"He knows? He knows where... oh, oh god, you mean I might actually..." Neena choked back the question and leaned toward Yancy. "There's something wrong, isn't there? What did he tell you?"

"I... I don't know if it's really my place-"

"Yancy, I've lived my entire life without my parents, if you have any idea of where they might be I need to know! Are they dead? Is that it?"

Yancy took a breath. He looked up at the stars again, not for any other reason than to give himself an extra moment before he spoke. "He said- Phil said, in his universe, you found out..."

"Go on," Neena said, all eager excitement.

"He said you weren't an alien."

"You mean, I'm... I'm human? But that doesn't make any sense, if I were human I'd..."

Her eye widened a fraction, the effect enhanced by her pupil contracting to a tiny dot. Yancy could almost see the adrenaline flooding into her body, the fight-or-flight instincts kicking in as her blood drained from her face. Neena abruptly stood up and paced to the face side of the little island, where she sat down again, right on the very edge, staring at her reflection in the smooth water's surface. Yancy didn't know what to do. He stood up, then he sat down again, pulling at his face with one hand as he tried to think, tried to work out what he should do... what his _brother_ would do. Eventually he picked up his jacket, surprisingly dry despite the damp ground, and walked over to Neena. He put the jacket around her shoulders as he knelt down beside her.

Her eye moved slightly to look at his reflection in the pool. "You must think I'm a monster."

"If it helps, I always did." That earned Yancy a humourless chuckle. Neena seemed to relax a little then, leaning over on Yancy. He settled down next to her and even risked putting his arm around her shoulders then. It seemed the right thing to do. It was the kind of thing Phil would do. "I'm sorry."

"No. Don't be... at least it narrows down my search from an entire universe to a single city. That has to count for something, right?"

The mania behind her sudden cheerfulness was a little unnerving. Yancy nodded, not wanting to say anything lest he broke some part of Neena's mind. "I guess."

"It all makes sense when you think about it. I mean, look at me. I have the same body, skin, organs, the same _hair_ even. If it wasn't for this god-damned eye I'd be human," she yelled, throwing a stone at her reflection in the pond. The surface scattered, splitting her reflected face for just a moment, so that her reflection stared back with two all too human eyes. Neena wailed and grabbed hold of Yancy's arm. "Oh Yancy, oh god!"

She sought for him, her arms wrapping around Yancy's body before he could react, burying her face in his chest, weeping quietly. Yancy awkwardly slipped a hand around Neena's shoulders and patted her arm, completely at a loss. She stayed like that for some time until a lone owl fluttered into the tree and hooted mournfully.

Neena lifted her tear-streaked face from Yancy's shirt. "It's all true," she whispered. "I should have known..."

"What do you want to do now?"

"I want you to take me home."

"Oh. All right, I'll be able to take the tube from your place-"

"No, Yancy, she's there, I don't think I'd be able to look at her tonight without..." her voice drifted off as she stared at her reflection on the lake again. "Let me stay with you tonight." She pressed her hands to his chest, rocking back on her knees as she looked into his eyes. "Please?"

* * *

The apartment was dark as the deepest pit of Robot Hell when Leela finally arrived – or darker, in fact, from what she could recall of the place. Leela slunk across the room, not bothering to turn on the light, knowing precisely where the single chair was.

She glanced briefly in the direction of the bedroom, seeing nothing in the darkness and wondering if Neena was within. And Yancy. They'd left together, hadn't they? It was fairly likely they'd be in there. She couldn't hear much but that didn't signify. She'd always been quiet, lest people hear things and gossip about her.

The kitchen was within reach, and a particular cupboard easily accessible. Leela reached inside and grasped the neck of the bottle she knew was there. Special occasions, she'd always said it was for though, quite what you could celebrate with a hundred percent proof grain spirit, she wasn't sure now.

Half way back to the chair, with the bottle grasped firmly in both hands, Leela stopped. She looked down at the whiskey, just barely visible in the glow from the chronometer on the wall. Memories tickled at the edges of her mind, of another version of herself locked in a darkened apartment, cradling the same bottle. Was she really so weak?

With great care Leela placed the bottle on the floor before stumbling back to the chair, where she slumped down with a relieved sigh. Leela leaned back in the seat with images of Fry flitting around her head, taunting and distant. She wondered if she would ever be able to speak to him again. Her last conscious thought was of what she would do when they found their way home.

* * *

_... and then there were the tunnels, always the same but always different, and again she wandered them, mourning all she had lost and crying vengeance on the man she had once loved..._


	21. Chapter 21

Fry lay in the twilight with just the glow of shimmering, distorted light cast on the ceiling from somewhere behind his head. The air was filled with the sound of splashing water, running between the three-level decorative pool that wound around the bed, and the heady scent of whatever incense had been burning when he'd arrived, filling the air and his mind with its seductive scent. The sheets were silk, the room was airy, yet made strangely intimate by its plush red decoration, and the company was...

He turned his head slightly to look at Amy nestling in the crook of his arm. It was the sort of situation where he'd normally have felt a deep contentment, even if it was just for a few hours. Why didn't he feel it now?

His slight movement must have been enough to wake Amy again. She stirred and sighed, wrapping her arm around his chest a little further as she snuggled up to him. He did smile then, though it was a sort of instinctive reaction. A moment later she opened her eyes and looked up at him.

"Hey."

"Hey yourself."

There wasn't much to be said past that, so Fry pulled the sheets up a little higher and wrapped his arm around around Amy's shoulder, which was met with a sigh and a languid stretch before she resumed nuzzling against his neck. She stopped a moment later to prop herself up on her elbows.

"There's something wrong, isn't there."

Fry shrugged. The tinkling of Amy's Ch'i fountain was lulling him into a semi-conscious state, not quite asleep, but sluggish enough to leave him unable to think straight. Or at all. Amy rolled onto her side, with her hair trailing across the pillow like a black silk shroud. She smiled. He couldn't quite bring himself to smile back.

"Hey, what's the matter?"

Fry moved as carefully as he could manage in his sleep-enfeebled state. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to tempt a little more life into his brain. "If I tell you... it'll screw everything up," he mumbled, vaguely recalling that it really wasn't a good idea to mention other women in bed. Amy persisted, though, teasing at him, convinced he was hiding some sort of kink or other until he wondered why he even bothered.

"Oh, Philip," Amy said as he pushed her advances away yet again. "I'm not that bad in bed surely?"

"Wha? No, it's Lee-"

Fry slapped his hand over his mouth. He screwed up his eyes again, wishing a bottomless pit would open up and swallow him whole; why did he always do things like this? Just once, couldn't he keep his big stupid mouth shut?

His self-berating crashed to a halt when he heard Amy laughing, and not in the evil way a lot of women laughed at him. Fry teased an eye open to look at her, now sat up in the bed and smiling beatifically down at him.

"You're not mad at me?"

"Why would I be? Ooof... I have to do something about the heating in here." Amy tugged the sheets around her body a little more, against the gentle chill of the room. "There's no reason to be mad at you."

"But I just-"

"Hush..."

Fry tried to ignore the feeling of her finger on his lips. Amy smiled at him again, leaning back just enough for the sheets to pull tight across her body just long enough to send Fry's mind reeling. He shook his head, trying to concentrate on the calming fountain until Amy withdrew her hand.

"You needed a break," Amy said out of nowhere. "And like I said, you're cute, and I haven't had a boyfriend for nearly a month."

She climbed out of the bed and padded across the carpeted floor to the nearby kitchen, leaving Fry to ponder the ceiling again for a while, arms folded behind his head. He could already imagine what Leela would have to say about this, and in a way, in the sober pre-dawn light of the morning, he wondered if she might be right. Why had he done it, anyway? Boredom? Stupidity?

"It was tension," Amy said, from somewhere out his sight, as if reading his mind. She hove into view bearing a bed-tray with two cups, a large, steaming teapot and a few small, pink, pill-shaped things that Fry didn't even want to ask about. The smell of fresh green tea filled the room as Amy set the tray down next to Fry, before hitching up the silk pyjamas she'd acquired on her brief errand, the better to curl her legs together on the bed. Not for the first time Fry remembered why he'd fallen for her the first time. Plus she was easier to talk to than Leela, as long as you didn't mind plenty of inane chatter about clothing and make-up.

She poured the tea, wordlessly dropped two of the pink pill-things into her cup and handed the other cup over to Fry.

"_Jookja._"

Amy raised her cup in toast and Fry, not wanting to offend, followed suit. They sat in silence, sipping tea and looking at each other with a strange sort of shyness, which hadn't been there before and that seemed to come and go in waves. Now and then Amy would look at his face and then look away with a nervous smile. Fry felt himself doing the same. Crazy.

"What did that mean before?"

"It's kinda like 'cheers'," Amy replied. She grinned wickedly as Fry started to protest it wasn't want he'd meant. "Silly... I meant tension. Like, sexual tension? Even an idiot can see you're completely_ kwong juh duh_ over her."

"I'm what?"

"Nuts. Crazy. Kinda..."

"And that leads to..." Fry circled his cup to take in the bedroom and Amy.

"Oh it doesn't. I just figured you could use a good time, get your mind off things for a few hours." Amy finished off her tea and set the cup down on the tray with a rattle of porcelain. "And I wanted a good time too. Everyone wins!"

"Not me. Leela thinks I've been trying to get this ever since we got here. I mean, I don't even know you! Or... well, I do, but it's a different you, so it's not you, but it is... if... if you see what I mean?"

Amy paused in pouring herself another cup of tea to look at Fry with a delicate frown. Lord, even her frowns were cute. "Not really."

"When she finds out-"

"So let's not tell her!" She leaned toward him, drifting in a scent of perfume and sweet green tea that insinuated its way into Fry's hind-brain with barely a grunted greeting to his higher faculties. "It can be our little secret..."

Fry almost bit through the edge of his cup. The scent, the fountain and his own libido were conspiring against him again. In fact the only thing preventing him throwing the tray aside and grabbing Amy for another round was the distinctly Leela-shaped barrier put up by his conscience. It hadn't been there before. With great care he put the cup down. Amy's face fell just a little, as if she knew exactly what he was thinking. Why did this keep happening to him?

"You're _not_ going to tell her, are you?"

"She won't find out from me," he promised. Amy smiled as he took her hand in his own, without reproach. It felt like he was dumping her all over again, only this time he could see plenty of reasons why he shouldn't. And one very big reason why he should. "She's smart, though. If she hasn't figured it out by now then she's not Leela."

"Does that matter?"

"It kinda does to me." He leaned back against piled-up pillows, his tea carefully balanced in one hand as he supported himself with the other. "I don't want to upset her."

She touched her finger to his lips again and smiled. "You are like your brother in some ways. You're sweet. You care a lot more about Leela than you seem able to admit."

"I care about you too."

She sighed and then laughed quietly. "I wish I could believe that. You don't care about me, you care about some other version of me, out there. And you care about Leela more than either of me."

"You're the same person, though, and I want to try and make up for... for what I did. How can I prove it?"

"I don't think there's any way," Amy said, looking away. Fry put his cup down, feeling a sudden determination and incidentally rattling the tray again.

"I can stay."

She looked up at him, her normal sweet expression giving way to complete surprise. "What? You can't do that."

"I can do whatever I want!"

"But, you... but, Leela-"

"Forget that, did you see the way she was crawling all over that Scottish guy earlier?"

"You mean Veklerov," Amy said, frowning at the memory. "I don't know, she didn't seem interested in him. She spent the entire night looking at you," she added with a heartfelt sigh. "It's kinda romantic."

"Amy, she's been on my back ever since we got stuck out of our universe. I don't..." his voice trailed off, then. He couldn't say it, not that. Not even now, when it seemed so true. "The Professor will have his doohicky finished soon. Leela's given me plenty of hints she doesn't want me along when that happens and I've got plenty of reasons to stay here. Yancy. You..."

"You'd stay? For me?"

"Yeah," Fry said, realising he actually meant it. "Yeah. I would."

"Oh, Phil, that's so sweet!"

She hugged him, gently at first, but then with more vigour as their closeness overrode other, higher thoughts. The tea was swept from the bed as they rolled into a tighter embrace. He paused for a moment to look down into Amy's eyes and smile, with the thought that perhaps things wouldn't be so bad in this universe. Then Amy giggled, tossing her pyjamas over his shoulder. After that he didn't see much point in thinking.

* * *

The journey across town had been fairly peaceful. Of course it was hard to carry on conversation in the tube, what with one side always having to talk to the other's feet but, even so, Yancy had to admit the tubes at night were surprisingly pleasant. There was none of the crowded claustrophobia brought on by knowing there were thousands of other people behind and ahead of him, no nagging fear of the possibility of getting stuck in a blockage. All that left was the possibility of the tube breaking. It didn't seem likely on a night like this.

Yancy looked over his shoulder yet again to reassure himself Neena was still behind him. For propriety's sake he'd gone first in the tube. It had been one of those 'trust' moments; the constant worry of whether she was still behind him had kept dragging Yancy's head around to look, so that by the end of the journey he had an annoying crick in his neck. She'd been there, though. Every time.

They emerged about half a block from the Robot Arms apartments and carried the rest of the way on foot. Arm in arm. He couldn't quite believe it, or shake the feeling that he was betraying his past somehow in the process.

"It's the strangest thing," Neena said as the entered the building. "I read it, I understood it, but I never really thought about the fact that you live in a robot's closet."

"One of those things, I guess," Yancy replied.

"I hear they're pretty roomy."

Yancy nodded, somehow realising Neena was talking to keep from thinking about herself. "You wouldn't believe how big."

They were silent in the elevator. Neena stared at the little gap at the base of the doors, narrowing her eye slightly in time to the passing light of each level until they reached Yancy's floor. Outside the door, Yancy paused and shuffled his feet.

"It's a bit of a mess."

"I doubt I'll notice."

"Right..." He waved his hand across the lock pad. The door responded with a quiet chirrup and slid open. Bender stood slightly to one side, limbs locked in place and faceplate sealed shut. "Oh yeah. Bender. You'll have to sort of squeeze past him a little."

"_Hrr... kill all... humans..._" the robot muttered, twisting his head to one side as Neena edged past him.

"That's one way to stop people interrupting," Neena mused as she passed through to the interior. She stopped and stared at the panoramic window. The moon was sinking behind the skyline, silhouetting a few of the taller buildings and casting bright pin-pricks of light through their darkened windows. "Oh. It's beautiful..."

She turned away from the view as Yancy approached her. There was a tear peeking from the corner of her eye. She quickly rubbed the moisture away and smiled a melancholy smile. "I don't have a window at home. I'd kill for a view like that."

Yancy shrugged, at a loss for words. "It's just a window."

"It's still beautiful."

She gently touched Yancy's elbow and smiled again. Yancy shivered, losing focus for a moment. He abruptly turned away and shuffled a few steps toward the kitchen. "You want a drink of something? Coffee? I managed to find a place that sells twenty-second century-style beans. Not quite my own time..."

"Yancy..."

"... but I, it makes me feel more at... home..." he turned back to look at Neena, that odd cramp tugging at his gut again. It seemed a little weaker this time. "What?"

"I've tried to be subtle."

"Oh." A strange tingle worked through his chest and settled in his stomach, displacing the nervous cramp, as he realised what Neena meant. For something to do, Yancy took off his coat and tossed it onto the couch. He approached the shelf holding his most precious memories, what few he'd actually been able to find or salvage, and laid a hand on the little box holding the most precious of them all.

"I'm sorry, Neena. I told you. I can't."

"If it's about your past, Yancy, you have to let go some time."

"No. Well yes, there's that," he said, picking up the box and flipping it open. The ring glittered at him like a tiny star in a black-velvet sky. Yancy snapped the box shut again and held it in his closed fist. He turned to look Neena squarely in the face. "But that's not the only thing. It's not right."

"Not right?"

"You're not thinking straight. I'd be taking advantage of you."

"No you wouldn't, I want this! Don't you understand? I need... I _need_ you, Yancy." She grabbed his shoulders and turned him to face her. Yancy winced at the sight of her passion and anguish, so very clear in her face. "I need to know I'm still... that I'm not a freak, that I'm normal!"

"Does it matter?"

"It matters to me!"

"But nothing is normal here!" Yancy shrugged out of Neena's grip as it loosened. He straightened his shirt a little. "You're living in a world full of carnivorous blobs and alien monsters and heads in _jars_ for god's sake. What difference does it make if you're-"

"Don't say it!"

"A mutant," Yancy finished. Neena turned away to put her head in her hands. She sniffled and then let out a quiet sob. Yancy gently guided her to the couch and sat down next to her, resting her head on his shoulder and quickly finding out just how much water she could squeeze out of her eye. He slipped an arm around Neena's shoulder, remembering how it had always comforted Laura when he did that.

After a few minutes Neena's weeping faded to a muted whimper. She sat up, blinking back tears. She snuffled and wiped at her face with bare hands in a vain attempt to make herself a little more presentable.

"I'm sorry, you shouldn't have to see me like this."

"Probably would have eventually," Yancy replied, but Neena wasn't listening. She turned a little to look at the sky.

"All my life I've believed I was something special, inside. That I belonged out there somewhere," she said, pointing at the stars, slowly fading as the sky brightened toward dawn. "To find out I'm almost literally mud..."

Neena seemed to fold in on herself, staring at the carpet. Yancy tried to comfort her again but she wasn't paying attention, or wasn't reachable, almost as if she'd crawled inside herself somehow.

"There was always the dream I'd find another member of my species, that they'd take me away from all this and I'd be something worth looking at instead of this freaky, bug-eyed alien everyone sees me as," she said, glancing up at Yancy. "I've been alone all my life. It didn't matter how close I got to people, I was always alone inside because I always knew I was different, I just didn't realise... You people don't realise what it means to be so completely isolated that way."

"You aren't the only one who's alone here," Yancy said, twisting the box around in his hand. Neena turned to look at him "Remember how you talked me away from that suicide booth?"

"I remember you said afterwards you weren't really going to use it," Neena replied. "So it wasn't really much of an achievement."

"That was the story I wanted to believe afterwards, but... if you hadn't been there I'd have walked straight in. I had no one left." He turned to look at Neena and sort of smiled, just a little. "Everyone I know and love, they're all gone. I didn't even have the hope of finding them, I didn't have anything to live for until you came along and talked me out of it. You saved my life."

"And now I guess you've just saved mine," Neena said. A tear squeezed out of her eye as she closed it. "In a manner of speaking. At least now I know where I belong."

"That's what friends are for," Yancy said with just a hint of sarcasm colouring his voice. He shook his head.

"Now you know you didn't call me a friend before today, Yancy." She grinned at him now, though he eye was still watery. "I know you hated the sight of me. Face it, when you thought I was an alien you would barely even let me touch you."

Yancy smiled just a little and rubbed Neena's shoulder. She sniffled and chewed her lip. "I won't say I didn't find you attractive. I... aliens just scare me, really, and I had other things on my mind as well most of the time. But if you're a mutant, then you're just an odd looking human. You're not going to try and dissolve me with your blood, or use my skin as a cocoon or something."

"You don't know, I might have haemophilia and sharp teeth." She laughed, briefly, stopping before her laughter could turn into another sob. Neena put her head in her hands. "I've been such a fool."

"No..." Yancy couldn't think of anything else to say. Instead he sat back, loosening his grip on the little box he was still holding. The box flopped onto the couch between them, where it caught Neena's attention. She picked the box up and snapped it open.

"Oh my," she said, her eye widening in shock. "Is this the ring? I have an idea of what what diamonds cost back then. She must have been worth a lot to you."

"Yeah. She was." Yancy gently took the ring back and held it up to the light. "Phil said we had a kid in his universe. First man on Mars, he said, but apart from that I didn't amount to too much. I was just there. Then I was gone."

"That must have been disappointing."

"In a way it's kind of a relief, knowing my life here isn't any worse than it would have been back then." He snapped the box shut and put it in his pocket. "If I'd stayed, I wouldn't have had it any better. And I wouldn't have met you."

"The mutant freak."

"You're still you."

"Yancy, what if people find out? I've seen memos about how mutants are supposed to be treated if they're caught on the surface. I'll be outcast, I'll lose my job, my friends..."

"They won't find out, and if they did... I... I'd try and do something."

Neena turned away, nodding slowly. She leaned back and yawned, reminding Yancy how tired he was after the long night.

"I'll tell you one thing," he said, rubbing his eyes. "I am never going to get up in the morning..."

"Tell me about it, I might just call in sick tomorrow," Neena said, her exhaustion overriding any other concern for the moment.

"You definitely have a reason."

"Hah..." She looked around the closet-cum-apartment with a leery eye. "Is there somewhere I can sleep?"

"Take my room, it's clean enough. I've no idea if Phil will be back tonight so I'll probably be all right on the couch," he said, noticing how bright the sky was. "Or this morning, I guess. Maybe I'll call in sick as well."

"Everyone will think we were at it all night." Neena had a wry smile on her face. "Ironic."

Yancy shrugged. He stood to help Neena to her feet before walking her to his bedroom. "I have a bunch of old t-shirts if you need something to wear."

Neena nodded on the threshold. She seemed torn between needing sleep and repeating her offer. Eventually she just closed her eye and leaned her head against the door frame. "Thanks. For everything."

The door closed with a quiet click. Yancy turned away to face the empty living room and its oh-so-comfortable couch, and quickly realised he hadn't changed out of his evening-wear. He sighed and the injustice of it all and sat down to stare out of the window.

Yancy pulled out the little black box with his ring in it and stared at it. He opened up the box again, turning it this way and that to make the jewel sparkle in the dim light. There were moments when he barely even thought about the ring these days, when he could almost forget. Maybe.

He turned to peer at the door to his room, wondering if perhaps he'd made the wrong decision. No. he'd been right. But... she was right, too. He'd have to give it up soon or he'd lose himself in it.

He must have dozed off at some point because suddenly the sun was rising, filling the room with the sort of golden early morning light that Yancy rarely got to see, and the answer machine was beeping merrily to itself in the corner. Yancy sat up and tried to stretch the knots out of his back, with little success – if this was going to be a regular thing he'd have to get a spare bed, he thought, as he slouched over to the machine.

There was only one real message amongst all the spam and wrong numbers. One more than normal. He pressed the 'play' button and looked up to the screen. It was blank. No, more like in shadow, with a very familiar silhouette.

"_Hello Fry, it's Leela. Don't bother picking up if you're there because it won't make any difference. It's over. I'm leaving as soon as I can and I won't be taking you with me. I'd say it's been fun but that'd be a lie. So long."_

The screen blanked out and faded to a slowly shifting panorama of green fields and hills. Yancy stared at the empty screen. Something prodded at the back of his mind, a little discomfort, but he couldn't put his finger on it. Perhaps it was just the thought of having to share an apartment with his brother now. He turned away to find himself breakfast.


	22. Chapter 22

Much later, with the first light of dawn creeping past the tall curtained windows, Fry reached out to touch Amy's shoulder and then just watched her as she slept. He felt it then. Contentment. The peace of a decision made. He smiled and rolled onto his back to stare at the ceiling.

Something pressed against his temple, something cold, hollow, and then he heard the sickening metallic click of a gun being cocked, at the same time as that malevolent eye rose out of the darkness. She stared at him, anger and confusion filling her face.

"Now, how did _you_ get here? Time to _leave_, Fry..."

"Wait!"

The gun flashed. Fry sat upright with a silent yell and a deep, shuddering breath. He looked around but the room was deserted. There was only Amy, quietly snoring in the bed next to him, her pale bronze skin catching the first rays of light from the window. He blinked away a terrified tear and lay back against the pillow until his heart stopped trying to leap out of his chest.

Sleep refused to return. The dream had seemed so immediate that Fry almost couldn't believe it had just been a dream. Of course, he was still alive and didn't seem to have any bullet holes in him. Just too much excitement, that was all. He slipped from the bed and padded across the apartment to find himself a robe.

Things came to life as he stepped away from the bed. The curtains drew back, revealing a panoramic view of the Manhattan skyline, and lights around the edge of the spacious room brightened to highlight nooks and niches in the walls, all accompanied by a few bars of some sort of oriental music.

Fry stopped in his tracks to look around the room. It seemed much bigger in the daylight. "Wow."

"Don't act like you've not seen it before," Amy said through a yawn. She stretched out on the bed and smiled at Fry, before flipping over to pull her pyjamas from the floor. "You must have been here when you were with 'me', right?"

"In my universe your apartment is tiny." Fry felt oddly exposed and wondered why until he remembered he was butt-naked. He cast around for something to wrap himself up with, eventually settling on an old piece of cloth hanging from a nearby table. "And it was dark when we came in last night. You got a robe I can borrow?"

"Sure, there's a dozen or so in the bathroom, you should find one in your size."

"Thanks."

"And then you can put my priceless Japanese silk scroll painting back where you found it," Amy added to his back. Fry looked down at the cloth wrapped around his waist and spent a moment marvelling at the fine brushwork on the tiger's fur. He grinned over his shoulder as he carefully put the painting back in it's place.

"Sorry."

Amy just shrugged and grinned. "It's okay, mom and dad can always buy me more."

Which was just Amy all over, Fry thought once he was safely in the bathroom. And she was right, too; the closet was filled with robes of all different sizes, from a few silk ones that looked like they'd barely fit over even Amy's slight frame, to something that looked like it'd been left behind by a one of the Harlem Globetrotters. And probably had, he realised. Fry carefully pushed the robe aside and selected something a little more his size.

There was a smell of frying bacon in the air when he emerged. Fry sniffed appreciatively and made his way toward the kitchen where he found Amy gingerly poking at a skillet.

"Wow, you can cook?"

"Oh, sure." Amy smiled as she shuffled the bacon around. "I'm not great, but you men always seem to come back if you see a woman cooking breakfast. I once strung out a guy for three weeks with badly made waffles. I swear- _ai hsi bal!_"

Amy leapt back as the skillet suddenly burst into flame, filling the kitchen with thick white smoke. The sprinklers erupted, drenching them both to the skin in seconds and Fry bit his tongue at the sigh of Amy's attempt to look dignified in the pouring stream. She gave up eventually with a defeated grin.

"I guess we can order out..."

Fry just laughed.

* * *

"I suppose I'd better call Yancy," Fry said, some time later.

"Sure, whatever," Amy mumbled before rolling onto her side. She started snoring a moment later. They were back in bed again. It had been Amy's idea, with the reasoning that they were already naked anyway, and Fry hadn't seen much to argue against. He rolled over to pull at his robe, hanging near one of the concealed air vents, lurching Amy out of her nap again. She stared at him, bleary eyed, and smiled as she flopped over to the side of the bed.

Amy pulled a cellphone out of some tiny nook under the bed and held it up. "I'll call up some breakfast. Video phone's over there," she added, waving toward the far end of the apartment.

Fry took a little time to marvel at the apartment again as he made his way to the phone. He couldn't remember too much of Amy's place at home. It had seemed impressive at the time, if a little messy, filled with high-tech gadgetry and the trappings of wealth and a rather impressive array of discarded underpants. This Amy seemed to have a lot more taste, as far as Fry understood such things, preferring the sort of understated opulence that mere wealth never achieved. With that in mind he was starting to wonder about his own motivations for staying. On top of the thought that he might be doing it just for the money, there was a niggling thought at the back of his mind that kept asking _is it just to spite Leela?_ And, in all honesty, he couldn't deny that it was.

The phone was hidden away in a little alcove, bathed in a soft light from some diffuse location above. Fry sat down with a heavy sigh and stared at his reflection in the black screen. "Sure you want to do this, me?"

_Of course I do,_ he thought as he dialled the number for his- for Yancy's apartment. His brother answered almost immediately.

"_Phil?"_

"Hi bro, how's things?"

"_Oh great, except you didn't come home last- wait, is that _Amy's_ apartment?"_

"Yeah." Fry grinned and wiggled his eyebrows.

Yancy stared at him through the screen, his expression carefully neutral._ "At least now I know you were somewhere safe and not in some back alley having your organs removed."_

"Hey come on, Yancy, give me a little credit. I make plenty of good decisions!"

"_And don't mention Michelle, right?" _Yancy returned Fry's suddenly strained grin and leaned toward the screen a little. _"I hope you know what you're doing, Phil."_

"Oh, do I ever! I've got something to tell you."

"_Yeah, well much as I'd like to hear about your sex life, it can wait, I have something more important to tell you first. I got a call from Leela."_

"Leela?" Fry wrapped his robe a little tighter and shivered. The room suddenly felt very cold. "What did she say?"

"_She said she was leaving you behind and something about things not working between you. I... I didn't realise you two were-"_

"We're not." Fry shook his head slowly and sat back, frowning. "Are you sure that's what she said?"

"_She was pretty precise about it,"_ Yancy replied._ "I'm sorry, Phil."_

"Yeah, don't worry about it. I was calling to tell you anyway. I'm staying."

"_Oh."_

"I guess I don't have to call her now," Fry said, ignoring Yancy's apparent lack of enthusiasm. Of course his brother was glad to have him around, right? "So I guess..."

His voice trailed away as Neena walked into view, wearing one of Yancy's t-shirts and apparently very little else. Fry felt his jaw drop at the sight and grit his teeth to keep it closed. Yancy couldn't quite meet Fry's eyes when Neena leaned down to peer into the screen.

"_Oh, hi Phil! I should probably thank you..."_ she glanced at Yancy and smiled. Her brow crinkled just a tiny little bit in a way Fry recognised as Leela when she was scared and hiding the stress. _"We'll talk later. Yancy, coffee?"_

"_Oh, uh... sure."_ He waited for Neena to walk out of range before giving Fry a plaintive look. _"This isn't what it looks like."_

"The hell it isn't! She- you... Yancy, what-" was all Fry could manage before Amy, out of nowhere, draped her arms around his neck and planted her lips firmly against his. Fry wilted under the assault and slid down in his chair, dazed, when Amy finally let him go. She rested her head on his shoulders and sighed at the screen.

"Okay, I guess I can't really talk," Fry muttered.

"Hi Yancy!"

"_Amy,"_ Yancy said with a stiff nod. He glanced over his shoulder again and leaned a little closer to the screen. _"This really isn't how it looks, Phil."_

"_Yancy, your coffee's getting cold!"_

"_I'd better go. See you at work?"_

"Sure," Fry said as the screen blanked away. He stared at his reflection for a minute then sighed, stood up and returned to stare out of the panoramic window. A moment later Amy joined him, slipping an arm around his waist and leaning on his shoulder.

"I heard what Leela said."

"It doesn't seem right," Fry said, watching the traffic as it built up around the Manhattan skyline. "I know she was mad at me last night but I didn't think she'd actually leave me behind."

"You were going to make her do it."

"I guess..." He turned away from the view and stared around the apartment. It was a very nice apartment. "I'd better get going."

"Oh, there's no rush," Amy said, walking her fingers up his back.


	23. Chapter 23

Leela felt the door open more than heard it, as a sort of dull thump somewhere in the back of her skull that jarred her out of fitful sleep. She opened her eye just in time to see the light turn on, and just as quickly shut it against the glaring white bloom that she assumed was a wall. Footsteps that felt like iron spikes hammering into her skull echoed around the room until a shadow fell across Leela's face. She risked prizing her eye open a fraction, knowing she'd regret it in one way or another.

"Oh, it's you." Leela squeezed her eye shut again to block out Neena's disapproving look. She turned away until a sharp pain shot up her neck. "Oh, god, leave me alone..."

"Not much chance of that," Neena said. Something about her voice caught Leela's attention. She risked opening her eye again to look at her twin and was almost blinded by the bright, plain white oversized shirt Neena was wearing.

"If it's about last night-"

"How could you embarrass us both like that?"

"Nothing happened!" Leela pressed her hands to her head and leaned forward in the hope it would ease the skull-shaking throb behind her eye. Instead she found she could add nausea to her list of symptoms. Any thought of arguing with herself disappeared until it had passed.

"You were practically tearing his clothes off when I left," Neena muttered, stalking away and adjusting her pants. They seemed a little oversized as well, held up by a belt cinched tight around her waist. "I don't know how you can even try to deny it. He was all over you!"

"Yeah, well, you left early."

"And then you came back here with that wannabe 'pilot' and raided my best liquor..." Neena held up the bottle Leela had discarded the previous night, with the seal still intact. "Or at least tried to. So, is he in there? In _my _bed?"

Leela shook her head and mumbled a negative but Neena wasn't listening. She thrust the bottle into Leela's unresisting hands and stormed over to the door. "Veklerov, I'm coming in and you're going to get your ass- oh..."

The door swung wide, revealing the very empty bedroom. Neena paused on the threshold, momentarily taken aback, until a smile crept onto her face. "The wardrobe, right?"

"Neena, I'm telling you, _nothing happened_." Leela struggled to Neena's side and stared into the bedroom. The sheets were still nicely turned down, undisturbed from the previous day. "Oh I could have been in bed..."

"What?"

"Never mind," Leela grunted. She pushed past Neena and slipped into the bathroom before the other woman could reply. "I'm going to take a shower."

Leela shut the door and stumbled to the shower, which activated as soon as she came near it, filling the air with warm steam that softened the air and after a moment started to ease the sense that her eye was filled with quicklime. The bathroom light flickered painfully until she turned it off. She stood in the darkness for a moment with her eye closed, ignoring the persistent sound of Neena's thumping on the door.

"You can't hide from me in there forever!" Neena banged her fists against the door a final time. "You're hiding him in there, aren't you!"

"I am not-" Leela shook her head and turned on the light again. She yanked the door open and dragged Neena into the bathroom with her. "Do you see him in here?"

Neena looked around the little bathroom with an increasingly perplexed look on her face. She backed out into the bedroom, winding her fingers together. "I was so sure..."

"Yeah, well _I'm_ not so impressed by a guy with a big spaceship." Leela looked down at her feet with her eye half-closed. "At least, not twice. Now if you'll excuse me I'd like to get out of these clothes and clean up."

Neena stepped back to let Leela close the door. Alone again in the close, humid atmosphere of the bathroom, Leela found her headache slowly starting to disappear, or at least fade to a bearable level. She slowly undressed, easing tired and aching limbs out of sweat-stiffened garments, and stepped into the shower, sighing as the hot water soaked and pummelled her skin. The repetitive drumming of water quickly lulled Leela toward sleep, until she felt her eye closing and couldn't muster enough strength to open it again.

Her head jerked back, she was suddenly wide awake. She could hear someone talking quietly, whispering almost, just shy of her perception but loud, steady and constant at the same time. She turned off the shower and stepped out into the bathroom, shivering, the air chill as the warmth of the shower leached into the cold tiled floor. Leela paused to listen to the voice; it sounded like her own, like Neena, muttering about a giant staring eye and travelling to the father. Then it began to wail.

Leela crashed through the door into the bedroom to be greeted by an incoherent shriek, that she joined with her own. She halted in shock. Neena looked up at her with a confused expression.

"What in heaven's name are you doing?"

"Uh, I..." Leela tried to swallow her confusion. Neena didn't look like she'd been crying, or even slightly distressed. "I thought I heard something. You weren't crying?"

"No, I wasn't."

Leela closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. The headache was back again, just for a moment. "I thought I heard you. Maybe I was daydreaming."

"If you want my advice you'd be wise to put some clothes on next time you start hearing voices."

Leela felt her face colouring. She pulled a towel from the closet and wrapped it around herself under the disapproving look of Neena. "You weren't talking before, either," she asked as she sat down on the bed.

"Nope," Neena replied, making a very obvious point of not looking at the water that ran out of Leela's hair onto the bed. "I was thinking. I'll accept you didn't bring him here, but that doesn't mean you couldn't-"

"Dammit, Neena, I told you! _Nothing happened_. I did not sleep with Vek, I did not want to sleep with Vek and I wouldn't let him talk me into it no matter _how_ many big planets he showed me."

"How did you... I mean, well, good!" Neena reached up to touch her ponytail, then forcibly put her hands down on the bed. "But that doesn't explain why you were draping yourself all over him last night."

"I wasn't draping myself over anyone, I was... I... had my reasons," Leela said, pressing her hands between her knees. "I admit I can't quite understand them. You'll just have to trust me. It's only like trusting yourself, really."

"I wouldn't trust anything that involved McDiarmid."

"Why? What happened between... oh... oh god, he didn't-"

"No." Neena stood up and took a few steps away from the bed. "It'd be easier if he had..." She turned and pulled a towel and a some clothes from the many neatly bundled sets in the wardrobe. Neena tossed the bundle on the bed and draped the towel over Leela's hair.

"It was staining the sheets," she explained.

"Oh, yeah, that wouldn't be good." Leela started drying her hair, drawing the water out in long streams as she ran the towel down her locks. "So..."

"I'll tell you what happened, but you have to promise me something in return."

"For you, anything."

"Take me to my parents." Leela paused in drying her hair to look at Neena, who merely shrugged at her frown. "Yancy found out from Philip and dropped it on me last night."

Leela stared at the floor for a moment as she digested this new information. So Fry had been shooting his mouth off about her again had he? Didn't he realise the risks he was taking, with _her_ life no less.

"I'm not sure what to say," she replied eventually.

"How about 'I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier' for starters?"

"That could work..." Leela carefully pulled on her underwear, making sure to stay hidden until she was suitably covered. It didn't matter if it was technically only herself. Odd how that sense of modesty was so flexible. "I swear I was going to tell you about it, as soon as I was sure you wouldn't go off the deep end."

"Why would I do that? You obviously didn't."

"Yeah, well, I had Fry to remind me things could be worse. The last universe we were in, I met a version of us that had gone completely psycho after finding her parents." Leela thought back to their first encounter with 'Blue', as they'd nicknamed her, trapped in her darkened apartment and doubly so inside her own mind. She shook her head. Some things weren't worth dwelling on. "I can tell you where they are but I don't think I should take you. It'd be too confusing if two of us turned up. Skip work, come to Planet Express with me."

"I suppose I do have to see Yancy later today anyway," Neena replied, her face thoughtful for a moment. But then she closed her eye and swallowed. When she opened it again, Leela could see it was slightly bloodshot. "I'm worried about you going up with Veklerov."

"I told you, the whole spaceship thing doesn't impress me. I've been flying that thing for six years. Even with this damned hangover I'm a better pilot than he could ever hope..." Leela realised Neena was almost crying now, for real this time. She put an arm around Neena's shoulders and shuffled a little closer. "Neena, what's wrong?"

"You sound like I felt back then."

"What happened?"

"It was about two months after Yancy had arrived," Neena said. After a moment she leaned into Leela's arm, wiping a tear from her face. "I had just started his intervention..."

* * *

"The initial process will take about three weeks, after which we'll be able to ascertain whether you are eligible for a career chip re-assignment assessment. I have to warn you that very few career re-assignment requests achieve a positive result, but..." Leela put down her clipboard and stared across the table at the defrostee opposite. He had his eyes fixed on the table. "Mr Fry, are you even listening?"

"What? Oh, yeah, you're telling me I have maybe a snowball's chance in hell of this actually working."

"I am simply trying to give you a realistic expectation of this intervention, Mr Fry."

"Sure," he said, without looking up. Leela rolled her eye and tried to concentrate on the paperwork in her hand.

"First I have to monitor you in your workplace for a few days to build up a picture of your interactions with your colleagues and-"

"Leela, why are you doing this?"

"I explained, Mr Fry, I have to-"

"No..." He looked at her, right in the eye. Leela blinked uncomfortably and tried to return his gaze. "You hate your job, why don't you change it?"

Leela narrowed her eye as she thought about the question. "You've gotta do what you've gotta do, Mr Fry. I've seen more than enough attempts to change employment to realise how futile the process is, so I don't even think about the idea."

"Then why even give the chance? Why provide this illusion of choice if it's impossible to actually take it?"

"It isn't my place to question the system we work in, Mr Fry, and it definitely isn't yours. Now, as I was explaining, this week will be spent gathering data on your interactions with your colleagues, after which the process will turn to weekly interviews until a decision on your status is reached. The decision is usually made within three months." Leela brought up the appropriate paperwork on her clipboard, filled in a few details and handed it over to Yancy to sign. "Please read here and here," she said, indicating two red outlined boxes on the form. "And then sign where necessary to begin the process. I'll visit your place of work tomorrow."

Leela watched Yancy as he read the form, pausing now and then to re-read certain passages. Right then she knew his career assignment had been wrong, even though the thought was an implicit and dangerous doubt; no mere delivery boy would be so conscientious about a simple form, he seemed more like a fairly competent bureaucrat.

He signed the form and handed it back to her. "Leela, don't get me wrong, I know you helped me get this job with my nephew-"

"I understand, Yancy. Mr Fry. I just want you to be prepared for the most likely outcome, that's all."

"Right..."

"I'll see you tomorrow. Nine?"

"Oh don't bother, we don't get started until eleven. The Professor normally isn't able to walk before then." He stood up and tugged at his jacket. Leela noticed he didn't hold out his hand before he left. It had to be the eye. "I hope you like flying," he added as he turned to leave.


	24. Chapter 24

She'd visited Planet Express just once before, delivering Yancy to his first career position after using up all her credit with Ipgee to get him placed there. Leela had no idea why she'd done it, except that, perhaps after the suicide booth incident, she'd felt sorry for him. She'd not been past the reception that time.

The building was no different to how she remembered, perhaps a little the worse for wear. Planet Express might be one of the more successful delivery companies in the Sol system but that didn't seem to translate into actual care for its facilities, of which there seemed to be very few. In fact for such a large company it seemed to do very little actual work, Leela thought, as she examined the endorsements behind the secretary's desk.

"Sorry for the delay," the secretary said, holding up a phone in one of her hands. She waved Leela over to the desk. "Mr Conrad will be with you in a moment so if you'd just like to start filling in this paperwork for him. It's just standard forms, liability, insurance, that sort of thing."

She handed over two small clipboards. Leela returned to her seat and swiftly filled in the forms. She was just about done when Hermes Conrad arrived in the reception.

He paused and looked at her, his expression as inscrutable as it had been the few previous times they'd met. "Ms Turanga."

Leela handed over the forms as she stood up. "Mr Conrad. I'm here about Yancy."

"Yes, unfortunately young Mr Fry is indisposed right now," Hermes said. He perused the forms for a moment.

"Indisposed?"

"The squits or somethin'. He's making his prayers to the white throne. It's a shame your journey here was wasted," Hermes said, entering his own signature on the forms. He slipped the clipboards into his case and gave Leela the briefest of smiles. "If you want to arrange another visit...?"

"No, I'm here now. I can still carry out interviews of his closest colleagues."

"I see. In that case I hope you like flyin', they're already runnin' late for a delivery." Hermes held the door open for Leela with another brief smile. "This way."

Hermes led her through a cluttered loading dock, pausing to indicate the stairway up to the employee areas. "You might find your boy up there with our doctor."

"I'll look in on him afterwards."

"I expect you'll be wantin' to look at our facilities as well? We're fully compliant with all city employment facility codes."

"The, uh, facilities will be on my list of things to check, yes," Leela replied, looking about the loading dock. It seemed to be unusually sparse for such a busy company. "My primary concern is with Yan- Mr Fry's interaction with his workmates and their opinions of his behaviour." Hermes opened his mouth to speak, but Leela held up her hand to silence him. "I'll interview you when I return, Mr Conrad. I don't want your opinions as his employer to influence my questioning of your employees."

"If you say so."

They stepped out into the hangar, giving Leela her first real view of the company's spaceship. She stared up at the sleek red hull towering above her, overcome with a momentary sense of awe. Some day, she thought, a ship like that could-

"Hey, hey Hermes!" Leela's train of thought was interrupted by the heavily accented voice echoing around the hangar. A man in a scruffy jacket and pants emerged at the top of the ship's gangway, brandishing a chunky wrench in Hermes' general direction. "Number two motivator coil needs replacing before it burns out. Tell the Professor-"

"Find the money for it and you can have as many coils as ya like," Hermes replied as the man descended to the hangar floor. He lead Leela over to the gangway. "Ms Turanga, this is our pilot. Veklerov McDiarmid."

"I am very pleased to meet you," Veklerov answered, holding out a hand. "I don't believe I recognise your species," he added, staring into Leela's eye with obvious fascination.

"I, uh, don't know what it is," Leela replied, feeling a little flustered by the sudden attention Veklerov was giving her. She blushed and looked away. The pilot smiled and released her hand. "I was abandoned here as a child."

"An orphan of the stars, hmm? How romantic." Veklerov turned to Hermes, all business. "Now Conrad, you and I know that engine can run on just single motivator but the reason we have redundant coil is because of your own favourite regulation set Seven Three Twenty Six Space Flight Redundancy-"

"Oh don't you go quotin' regulations at me, McDiarmid. I know the regulations like a greensnake knows sugar cane and I know they also allow for the elective abrogation of sub-section seven in emergency situations." Hermes glanced at Leela with another brief smile. "Losing a delivery boy is an emergency in my book. You can have the coil at the start of the next financial year, and not a minute sooner!"

"Assuming we haven't exploded by then." Veklerov muttered once Hermes was safely far away. He turned back to Leela with another, more confident smile. "So then, Sirochka... can I call you Sirochka?"

"I'd prefer Leela if it's all the same to you," Leela replied. But then she frowned. "What does it mean?"

"Cute little orphan. It seemed appropriate," Veklerov said, lowering his gaze just a little. He gestured toward the ship. "The others are already on board, if you wish to interview them it will have to be during the trip. It is only a few hours, you won't need to pack or anything."

"Assuming we don't explode?"

"Funny!"

The pilot lead her up the gangway. As they approached the airlock Leela felt an unaccustomed flutter in her stomach, enough to make her pause on the threshold. She gazed up at the scarlet hull, staring at her face reflected on its surface, until Veklerov put a gentle hand around her arm.

"Come, Leela," he said, guiding her inside the ship. The interior was dim and cluttered in a way Leela felt she wouldn't have tolerated, but she could see a certain insane order behind the apparent randomness. Veklerov lead her up through the cramped galley to the bridge, just as apparently messy as the rest of the ship. Leela examined an open floor panel, pipes snaking from it across the floor to another access panel in the wall, and felt a vague disquiet.

"I'm not quite so sure about this now." She turned to Vek, already strapping himself into the pilot's seat as he activated the ship's systems.

"Have you not flown before?"

"Cruise liners, passenger ships, that sort of thing. I've piloted sims and flown atmospheric, never in space."_ And never in something so decrepit,_ she didn't add.

"It is a great adventure," Veklerov replied. He tapped the intercom on the flight column and leaned forward. "Crew to bridge for take-off please. So..." he turned from the column to Leela again. "You are here about the boy Yancy, eh?"

Leela nodded. "He's shown signs of incompatibility with his assigned career. I'm assessing him for a career chip re-assignment."

"Oh, my brother, he used to be a street sweeper, he tried one of those. After two months they came back and told him he'd be a mobile highway pollution monitoring and displacement officer. Then they gave him a new broom."

"I've already heard all the stories, Mr McDiarmid."

"Please, call me Vek." The pilot leaned back as his remaining crew entered the bridge. Leela nodded to the young Asian girl – Amy, was it? - and then drew back in surprise at the sight of a cigar-smoking bending unit following behind.

"You really have a _bender_ on your crew? What use is that?"

"I bend food into interesting shapes," Bender replied. He pulled the cigar from his mouth-parts and examined it for a moment.

"You're the cook? Well now I've heard everything."

"Beats staring people to death, eyeball."

"Hey!"

"Ignore Bender, he's got a bad personality patch," Amy said as she ushered Leela toward the couch. She sat down with her and grinned. "I'm Amy. You must be Leela. Yancy said you'd be coming today."

"That's right." Leela held up her clipboard and brought up her first interview form. "I'll need to ask you a few questions."

"Do I have to fill in any forms?"

"Oh, no, I do all that. You just have to answer as best you can." Leela looked over the bridge and decided to put the clipboard down. She could see Vek looking at her with an odd expression on his face. "Perhaps after we're on our way..."

"Amy, radio." Veklerov frowned at his console and let out a growl. "And Amy, note in the log, number two motivator secondary coil off-line until repaired. Make sure you add that it was all Conrad's fault in case they send the inspectors around. I'd have this whole ship stripped out and rebuilt if it were mine," he muttered. He ran through a final check and activated the launch ramp.

Leela felt her stomach drop as the ship tilted back, and then a rather odd sensation as the gravity pumps came on-line, tugging her back toward the floor. She swallowed and looked over her shoulder at Vek, who just smiled and held up a thumb before concentrating on his controls.

* * *

"Well that was an... experience." Leela shuffled on her seat in the tiny galley, nursing a hot chocolate drink and a stiff neck. They were cruising toward Neptune at a fraction of the ship's capable speed thanks to some sort of Solar System speed limit, that Veklerov had cursed every minute Leela had remained on the bridge, but Leela thought it was quite sensible compared to the take-off. She didn't want to spend too much time thinking about that. It had been very loud.

"I think Vek might have been showing off a bit." Amy, seated opposite Leela, knocked back the remnants of her coffee and clunked her mug down on the table. She sat back to give Leela an appraising look. "How well do you know Yancy?"

"Aren't I supposed to be axing the questions around here?"

"I guess so. I was just curious is all." Amy watched Leela as she pulled out a clipboard and brought up her basic questionnaire program. "He mentioned you a couple of times last night. We had a date," she added.

"I see. So I expect you'd have a fairly good relationship with Mr Fry?"

"More casual, sort of... he's nice, as a friend maybe, you know?"

"I think so. And you get on with him at work?"

Amy nodded. "Yeah. I mean, as far as I can when he hates being here so much."

Leela nodded, making a few notes. Interviews were just one of the many parts of her job she hated. The sanitised interrogation, peeking deep into people's private lives without much of a care for how they felt about it. She continued through the form, entering in Amy's increasingly ditzy answers as best she could and ignoring the nagging feeling at the back of her mind that she could be doing something different with her life.

An hour. It was meant to be a fifteen minute interview but with Amy's constant digression on every subject under the stars it took an hour, and she still wasn't finished. With a loud sigh Leela placed her pen on the table and gave Amy a tight smile. "I think that's enough for now."

"Oh. Well... ok, I guess. So that was the interview?"

Leela stifled a yawn and nodded. "Yeah, most of it, and it took a little longer than I expected."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it, I'll just put it down as overtime. Now, where..." Leela's voice trailed off when she saw Vek entering the galley. He winked at her and smiled before turning to Amy.

"Engines doing all right?"

"They're fine," Amy said brightly. "I ran a check an hour ago."

"Are you absolutely _sure_ about that, Amy?" Vek folded his arms and tilted his head toward the door a little. It was so obvious that Leela almost thought she'd imagined it and had to stifle a quiet laugh.

Amy's face fell for a moment, then brightened again. "I _guess_ I could have another look. See you later, Leela," she added as she skipped from the room. Leela watched her go with a vague disquiet. She turned to Veklerov and put on her most professional smile.

"Mr McDiarmid-"

"Please, I told you, call me Vek."

"Vek," Leela conceded. She cleared Amy's forms and brought up a fresh set. "This won't take very-"

"You have the most incredible eye," Veklerov said. He raised an eyebrow and smiled. Leela had to squirm to overcome the sudden tingling sensation in her lower back. "It's like staring into a perfectly still pool."

"That's nice of you to say so Mr... Vek, but I'm afraid I have an interview to complete." She held up the clipboard, as if that would somehow shield her from his advances. Vek smiled and nodded his head.

"Of course." He took out a packet of cigarettes and tapped one into his mouth. With that lit, he leaned back in his seat and put his feet up on the table. "Fire away."

"All right then..."

"Do you smoke?" He offered the cigarettes across to Leela. She examined the box for a moment, with its slim golden band around the top to match the filter marker, and shook her head.

"No."

"But you used to."

"When I was young. Sometimes when I get stressed..." she stared down at the forms. Veklerov put the packet back in his coat with a friendly nod. "I don't like to."

"It's a terrible habit, I agree." He stubbed out the cigarette and smiled that same disarming smile at Leela again.

"Ok, your relationship with Mr Fry-"

"I know these. Let's see, form number five hotel three one five india two sierra slash four november three?"

Leela ran her eye along the form's reference number. It matched up perfectly. "Yes! How did you-"

"I have a brother in the central bureaucracy. I asked him to look up the forms for this sort of thing and filled in a copy. Here," he said, handing over a data chip. Leela took the chip and slotted it into her clipboard. The form cleared and re-loaded with a complete interview. She looked up at Veklerov. He was staring at her across the top of a large coffee cup. "All you have to do is sign."

"I... this is highly irregular," Leela replied, glancing across the form again. It all seemed to be in perfect order.

"Yes, but easier, wouldn't you say? Leaves more time for us to just talk instead of-"

"Mr McDiarmid, I am here on official business." Leela stared down at the form, frowning as she tired to sort out the jumble of feelings in her head. "Still... it would save time."

"Of course it would! Now, how about we go up to the bridge and enjoy the view for a while?"

"I have to interview Bend-"

Veklerov held up another data chip and grinned. "I have Amy's too, based on very close observations taken from the Professor's personal files."

"I already have hers," Leela replied, reaching for the chip until Veklerov tugged it out of reach. He winked at her curious frown. "What's the game?"

"The greatest there is," Veklerov said. He pressed the chip into Leela's outstretched palm with another wink which, frankly, was starting to annoy her, and then turned to leave. "We'll be landing in ten minutes, by the way."

"Oh. Anywhere interesting?"

"Just Titan, we're delivering a few cases of factor six sunblock to a Wormulon research station there. You can watch the landing if you like."

"I'd like that," Leela said, standing. She left her clipboard on the table and followed Veklerov from the room. "Though, why would anyone on Titan need a factor six sunblock?"

"Well... originally it was a zero point zero zero zero to some immense power fraction with a six on the end, but all those extra numbers made the package too big for our budget rate. I guess they didn't want to pay for a bunch of nothings," Veklerov replied, deadpan. He shrugged. "Come on."


	25. Chapter 25

The bridge was silent as the ship slowly ascended through Titan's atmosphere, its hull streaked with the grime of the attack that precipitated their abrupt, if now leisurely departure. From her vantage on the couch Leela watched the yellow-brown haze passing by the forward ports, gradually clearing as they reached the upper atmosphere. She could see the rings of Saturn peeking through the clouds long before they reached space, and the faintest crescent of the planet itself.

Leela was transfixed by the sight, so much so that she didn't even notice Vek until he sat down next to her.

"Does this happen a lot?"

"About one in every seven deliveries, I suppose," Veklerov replied with a tight smile. "Usually it's over payment. If I'd know my name meant _that_ in Wormulon I would have stayed in the ship."

He glanced over his shoulder toward the rear of the bridge and then out at the scenery again. The hazy atmosphere was starting to thin out now as they passed over the terminator into Titan's night. Leela sighed.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" He dropped his arm behind the couch and turned a little, to face Leela. She glanced back at the deserted bridge.

"The-"

"Autopilot. Twelve step program," Veklerov said, anticipating her question. Leela let out a quiet sigh of relief and smiled, just a little. She turned back to staring at the planet.

"It's a wonderful sight. I never thought I'd... I'm sorry, you must think I'm terribly naïve about all this. I'm not used to looking at space so close."

"Oh, no, not at all, I understand perfectly. The big black has a habit of drawing people. Stare into the abyss and sooner or later it sucks you in, you catch the wanderlust." Vek slid away, dropping his arms into his lap. "It's one of the reasons I became a pilot."

"The others?"

"Oh, smuggling." Veklerov smiled at her, a broad, unguarded smile that Leela wasn't used to seeing. Most people tended to be just a little nervous around her. The badge, her eye... so many reasons. "So tell me, Sirochka, what of your species? You don't know who they are?"

"Oh... no. No, I was left at an orphanarium on Earth as a baby. All I had was my name and a note nobody has ever been able to translate." She stared at Saturn's limb as it slowly moved off to port, the ship taking them up and away from the planet's sphere of influence. "I keep telling myself, one day I'll go and look for them. I mean, how many planets can there be?"

Veklerov stood up and paced toward the big main window. He stared out into the stars with his hands clasped behind his back. "There are many. A great many," he said, turning to look at Leela. "But most are simply boring, barren lumps of rock." He waved a hand toward the receding form of Saturn, girdled by its rings. "Some are old and placid, and others..."

The ship began to accelerate, well above the speed limit Vek had been cursing before. Saturn disappeared behind them in moments, dwindling to a tiny spot in the rear view, and then to nothing at all, whilst another planet brightened in the forward ports.

"Where are you taking us?"

"A scenic route," Vek replied with just the hint of a smile. He sat down next to Leela. His hand resting on her shoulder felt strangely warm, with just the barest hint of pressure. "I can help you."

"Help me? How?"

"I do not intend to work for a mere delivery company for my entire life. I have savings, other work. If I buy a ship, I could start my own company. You and I... but, no, it is too soon to speak of such thing."

"What, Vek? What are you talking about? Are you saying you'd help me find my parents?"

"I could take you away from everything, Sirochka," he said, standing up again. "I could take you out there, show you a whole universe of wonder."

He held his hand up, guiding Leela's eye toward the forward port. The face of Jupiter now filled the entire view, its great red spot hanging in front of them like a giant, crimson eye staring right at her. Leela felt her heart leap at the sight, and at herself reflected in the window, and the planet mirrored again in her dilated pupil. "My god..."

Veklerov reached out a hand toward her, smiling benevolently. "What do you say, Sirochka?"

* * *

"I don't remember anything too clearly right after that point but, right then, he could have told me the entire universe was made of cheese doodles and I would have believed him. I was just completely overwhelmed, the promises, the spectacle of it all. I was such a fool to trust him."

Neena hugged her knees up to her chest and rested her chin on them. She stared at the wall as she spoke. "When we got back I was still in the clouds at the possibility of actually going to look for my parents, but then I didn't hear back from him for nearly a week. When I went in for the next interview with Yancy I... I..."

Neena closed her eye, squeezing tears from both corners. She groped blindly toward Leela and buried her face in Leela's shoulder.

"It's okay," Leela said quiet, rubbing a gentle hand up and down Neena's back. "We've all been there before."

"This is different! Hermes said Vek had been spinning that line to every moderately attractive woman who spent more than an hour in the building. Veklerov never had any intention to start his own company, or help me, or anything!"

"At least he was a bit romantic about it," Leela said as she tried to keep her mind off her own rather less flattering suitors. "Honey, it could have been a lot worse. That doesn't explain why you're still there, though. An intervention should have been over in just a few months, surely."

Neena's cheeks coloured just a little. She slowly returned to hugging her knees. "My first thought was to ask for someone else to deal with it but, then why should I have to be the one that caves in and runs away? So I stuck around, to prove he wasn't going to crush me that easily."

"For four years?"

"Yeah, I guess I sort of... it's Yancy. After a while I just kind of got used to being around him. He's just there, you know? Like some sort of marker reminding you where you are all the time. I felt safe knowing he was there."

"I think I know what you mean." Leela leaned back and looked away, her treacherous mind taking her through the events of the last weeks, Each encounter with her alternates was another reminder of how much she'd come to rely on Fry for that support and, now... She shook her head. Life was so unfair.

"At first I kept extending the assessment period, then just started making stuff up. You know how easy it is to do that if you stamp the forms the right number of times, right? I'm pretty sure he hated the sight of me after a while."

"Don't you think that's a bit selfish? Keeping him stuck in that job when he wanted to leave so much?"

"Oh. Yeah... I never really thought about that. Think I should tell him?"

"No." Leela took a firm grip on Neena's arm. "What you can do is finish the assessment, get him a decent job and _then_ think about telling him. Maybe."

Neena's face flashed up her guilt as she looked away. "I guess... we're really hitting if off now, though. He, y'know, sort of likes me. Maybe I could take him to see my parents!"

"Hey, woah, let's not go too fast yet. You've been on one 'date'..." She looked up at Neena's face and saw the quiet desperation she'd felt so many times in her life. "On the other hand, it can't hurt as long as you're clear about where you're both at. Mom always gets the wrong idea whenever I mention men."

"I've never had anyone do that..." Neena jumped up from the bed, bounding with energy and life and, even though she looked on the verge of breaking out in tears, she smiled at Leela. Her face seemed a little taut and fixed. "I can't wait! Tell me everything you can about them!"

"Sure," Leela said, returning the smile as best she could. "We can talk on the way."

* * *

Fry found he was getting used to the idea of not actually working at Planet Express. In most ways his life was as it always had been, only without the constant interruption of having to ship packages to dangerous backwater planets where people tried to kill him. He'd even managed to find a cooler for his beer, now lurking in their customary spot behind the couch. All in all life could be a lot worse, if only Hermes hadn't all but abducted Amy to help him audit the fridge for missing food. The bureaucrat was taken with strange ideas now and then but the idea of accounting for the snacks was a new one on Fry.

He cracked open another beer, put his feet up and settled down to the latest episode of All My Circuits just as Bender breezed into the room.

"Hey Bender."

"Woah!" Bender rocked back on his feet when he saw Fry. He frowned, as only a robot could, and slowly walked toward him. "So you're not just a sensor glitch then, huh? Figures. Hey is that _All My Circuits_?"

Fry nodded as Bender sat down next to him. Without thinking he passed another beer over to the robot, who hummed appreciatively.

"Do you know why Calculon hasn't been on?"

"Calculon?" Bender downed the beer in a single go, then swallowed the can for good measure. "That dope hasn't been on the show for nearly three years after the whole 'evil rampage' thing. They said he was some sort of, I dunno, were-car or something. Last I heard he was down in Bolivia working as a mixer in a coca-lite plant."

"No Calculon?" Fry realised how upset he sounded. He cleared his throat. "It's not _All My Circuits_ without Calculon..."

"Doesn't seem to have made much of a difference to _this_ robot." Bender pulled out a stogie and stood up. "Well, nice talkin to you and all, meatbag, but I've gotta go do employed things for employed people."

"Bender, you don't _do_ anything."

"Yeah, but unlike you, I get _paid_ for not doing it," he said. The door closed behind him, leaving a slowly dispersing loud of cigar smoke as the only sign he'd ever been in the room. Fry sighed and put his head back on the couch. So what if there was no Calculon, he could get used to that, right? And so what if he was unemployed, he could just mooch off the Professor. Or Amy. No, that wouldn't work, Amy would probably dump him after a week of that and, as for the Professor, who knew what price he'd ask?

"Lousy no good universe," he muttered, staring at the television. All he needed to make things complete was-

The door burst open, admitting Leela and her compatriot in a giggling, chattering heap. They scooted past Fry, not even looking at him until they reached the far end of the lounge, where Neena stopped to stare at him for a moment.

"Does he know?"

"Yeah," Leela replied with an airy shrug. "He knows. Come on, we'd better go see the Professor before he forgets what he wanted."

They left him alone again. Fry frowned after them, wondering how Leela could be so callously dismissive about leaving him behind. He grumbled about women and reached for another beer.

A shadow fell over him while he was rummaging behind the couch. He looked up, shielding his eyes against the over-bright lamps. It was Yancy, his face oddly placid. Fry's hand slowed a little, but continued seeking until he found refreshment. He grabbed two, ready to hand one to his brother but Yancy shook his head.

"Not now."

"Whatever you say," Fry muttered, tossing one of the beers back in the cooler. He lifted the other and stared at it, hand resting on the top. After a moment's contemplation he sighed and put the beer down on the table. "I can't believe she'd do that to me."

"Do what?" Yancy sat down on the couch, half-watching the television, half-watching Fry. "Leave you?"

"More like how she doesn't seem to care about it. She's not even talking to me." Fry stared at the far door and grunted. "Now Neena knows, too."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, she just asked Leela if I knew. Right in front of me, like I wasn't even there!"

"Oh, well that..." Yancy's voice was cut off by the door crashing open. Veklerov flew into the room and passed by with barely more than a grunt to greet the pair. At the far door he stopped and stared at them.

"Yankovich, go check the primary buffer panel again."

Yancy clambered from the couch, grunting with the effort of having to almost crawl across Fry's unmoving form. "I checked that thing twice yesterday, it's solid as-"

"Check it again! God in heaven, do I have to do everything myself around here?"

He exited the room at the head of a long train of Russian curses that echoed back through the short hall long after he was out of sight. Yancy turned his face toward the ceiling and shook his head. "Well I guess that's my day started."

"What's got into him?"

Yancy pondered for a moment. "If I had to guess, I'd say he couldn't find his cigarettes."

"Right..." Fry stared at his beer. "Yancy, what happened last night?"

Yancy turned half way toward the door and looked at Fry, or at least in his general direction. For some reason he couldn't meet Fry's eyes again. "It's complicated. I told Neena what you told me, she nearly freaked out, then we went back to my place and talked half the night."

"Doesn't sound complicated to me," Fry muttered. He folded his arms and glared at the TV. "It's not my universe, why should I care if you two are making out like rabbits?"

"Phil, this is why you need to _listen_ once in a while. I said we talked. That's it."

"You just talked?"

Yancy sighed and shook his head. "That's all we did. I slept on the couch," he added, rolling his eyes. Fry frowned at his beer, trying to work out if he should still be mad or not.

"Leela never slept on _my_ couch. This sucks! You're getting what I always wanted."

"Oh, what, are you jealous?" Fry and Yancy stared at each other until Fry had to break away and stare at his drink again. Yancy burst out laughing. "Well this makes a change! Yancy gets the upper-hand for once!"

"Yeah, rub it in some more why don't you?"

"I'm sorry Phil but this is just..." he sat down on the table, right in front of the TV. "You don't understand, do you. I've lived in your shadow all my life, especially after I got here. You, the... the big money-maker, saviour of the world and crap like that. You were always the one with the ideas, you always had all the luck. I think I deserve a break."

All Fry wanted to do at that moment was have his brother disappear into a flaming pit, or at the very least get out of the way. Fry looked Yancy in the face and raised his beer in mock salute. Nonplussed, Yancy just stared at him.

"Don't take this the wrong way, Phil, but you're being an ass." Yancy stood up and backed away. "I'm sorry it isn't working out between you and Leela but, like you said, this isn't your universe. If you thought you'd have another chance with Neena-"

"That's not fair, Yancy."

"Sure, whatever. See you later, Phil," Yancy said, turning to the door. He stopped. Neena was standing there, her eye skipping back and forth between Fry and Yancy while she fidgeted with her hair.

"Yancy, I need to ask you something."

"Is it important? Because I really..." Yancy's voice dried up when he looked at Neena's face, half way through pointing to the hangar door. His hand dropped to his side. "Neena? What are you doing here?"

Neena moved a little closer to Yancy and lowered her voice to a conspiratorial murmur. "Leela was going to tell me where to find them."

"Find..." Yancy frowned. He glanced at Fry and lowered his voice to match. "Find _them?_"

Neena nodded, sharp and curt. She was holding onto her free wrist with her right hand, pulling her arm down flat against her front as if afraid it would lash out by itself. Every now and then her fingers would give a nervous twitch. She looked at Fry again. "She won't be able to tell me until she's finished with Vek but she said Phil knows about them. That means he probably knows where they are. That means I don't need to wait."

They both turned to look at Fry. He was staring at the TV, trying to look like he hadn't heard their conversation but it didn't work. The silent attention made his ears burn bright red.

"Phil?"

"Yancy?"

"Are you going to tell her?"

Fry scratched his nose and looked about with a thoughtful expression. He looked toward Neena and quickly discarded any vindictive thought he might have entertained toward her. "Okay, but you have to tell me something first."

"Anything!" Neena almost leaped toward Fry. She knelt down beside the couch, staring at him like a hungry cat at a prime steak. "Anything at all."

For a moment Fry fell silent. There were so many things he wanted to ask Leela right then, so many little revelations to be had but he couldn't have them. Wrong Leela. He sighed.

"Why is Leela leaving me behind?"

"Leaving you... I- I don't understand," she said, looking at Yancy.

"Leela left a message for him on my machine last night," Yancy said. "You were asleep at the time."

"I figured she'd told you about it," Fry added. He scratched his head and tried to think. "She wasn't talking about it before?"

Neena shook her head. "No." She rocked back on her haunches and touched Fry's shoulder with a gentle hand. "I'm sorry, Phil, I didn't know."

"That's okay, I can find out somehow."

"Your turn." Neena leaned forward again as she slipped her hand from Fry's shoulder. At this range Fry could see his face reflected in her pupil, bringing back a flash memory of the last time he'd been this close to Leela's face. That time, she'd been holding a gun in his mouth. He quickly looked away to break the image and coughed, nervous and tense for no real reason.

"It's kinda hard to describe it."

Neena's hand tightened on Fry's shoulder. She leaned forward until her eye was almost touching his face. The intensity of that huge, focused stare brought a sheen of sweat to Fry's brow. "Draw a map."

"I... sure," Fry replied, leaning back. He held up his hands in mock surrender. "Just don't kill me."

Neena's hand relaxed, along with her face, which lost its manic cast and settled down to her usual slight frown. She stood up, grabbed Yancy's arm and dragged him back across the room to the table. "Can you come with me?"

"I have to work, Neena. Veklerov is going to-"

"Just tell him to take a hike. Better yet, I'll do it."

"I'm not sure-"

"Yancy!"

Yancy cowered back as Neena bridled, her face turning slightly pink from the combined emotions bubbling inside her. Just when it seemed as if she was going to scream at him, Neena relented, backing down in the manner of a cat; slowly, not quite relaxing the tension in her taut frame. She pulled the identification tag from her coat and held it up in front of Yancy's face.

"Look, all I have to do is wave this badge under his nose and make something up. Don't worry about it," she said, brightening noticeably. Yancy looked at Fry with a nervous expression and swallowed. "If the worst comes to the worst I'll just break his arm. Now let's go!"

Neena grabbed Yancy's arm and hauled him across the room. She practically threw him out of the far door before turning to look at Fry. Her grin was terrifying. "Bring that map down to the hangar in five minutes."

She was gone before Fry could reply. With a loud sigh he put his beer down, lifted himself from the couch and made his way over to the dining area to look for some paper.


	26. Chapter 26

Leela stared up at the red-hulled ship and tried to work out, for possibly the hundredth time, just what she was doing there. There wasn't any reason for her to _be_ there, not after the way she'd dealt with Veklerov the previous night but, for some reason, she hadn't been able to stay away. Oh she knew the logical response was to just treat him the way she'd treated Zapp... _should_ have treated Zapp...

But that was the problem. He was like Zapp in that he knew precisely how to goad her and it seemed that long association with the Leela of this universe had given him enough personal knowledge to do that with terrifying accuracy. His first response to her being even slightly hesitant would be-

"Hello, Sirochka! Having second thoughts are we?"

_And there it was..._ Veklerov descended the gangway toward Leela, his face almost split in half by a broad grin. From the look of him you wouldn't think Leela had nearly pushed his crotch up past his neck.

_I hate it when I'm right_, she thought, with a wistful shake of her head. "I'm not, I was just taking a closer look at the ship."

"Ahh. That is good. I would hate to think you are unadventurous." He stood over her, hands on hips as he looked around the hangar. "I assume you are fully recovered from, ah, last night? No little headaches?"

"None at all," she lied. It didn't matter that her head was still pounding, giving him even a hint of weakness would be fatal. She didn't dare take anything to numb the pain either, in case it affected her flying. "_I'm _fine. You look like you might need a few hours in a cold bath."

"Ahhh, you are quite the tease," he said, though with just a fractional hesitation that told Leela she'd got to him. "But if you are fine, then all is well! I shall forgive you your inopportune behaviour last night. I am sure you were merely acting out of frustration."

He laughed, though it seemed a little forced. Leela could taste bile in her mouth but there was no backing out now. Not without losing face. "Where _is_ Yanchovich?"

"Yancy? Maybe he-"

"Ahh, there he is! Excuse me, Sirochka." Veklerov pushed by Leela and waited at the bottom of the gangway as Yancy and Neena crossed over toward the ship. He held up a hand in greeting as they approached. "Neena, what a pleasing surprise! Yancy, I gave you a job to do."

"Yeah, well..."

"I'm afraid Mr Fry won't be available for work with you today," Neena replied, her voice officious and loud. She flashed a small pile of paperwork in front of Veklerov's face as she continued. "My duties require that I perform a more in-depth interview with Mr Fry at the Assignment centre, which will take up most of the day. I've already apprised Mr Conrad of the situation."

"You bureaucrats, all alike. Now how am I going to deliver this package?"

"I assumed you weren't delivering one," Neena replied tartly. "Not when you had your little 'jaunt' planned."

"I cannot take ship out without a signed docket. Bureaucracy at work." Veklerov said, folding his arms. He stared at Neena, then at Leela, with that annoying grin slowly spreading across his face. "That means, if I go up, it's because I'm _delivering_ something. Of course this is all a very convenient reason for you to back out now, isn't it," he said, turning to look at Leela. "If you _want_ to concede that I am the better pilot-"

"No chance," Leela shot back. She saw Fry walking across the hangar, a scruffy piece of paper clutched in his hands. "Fry can take Yancy's place. Can't you, Fry?"

"What? Go up in that thing again? With _him?_" Fry shook his head. "No way."

"Come on, Fry, we'll need the money if we're going to survive until we get... back..." Leela's voice faded. Fry was looking at her with a strange, confused expression that was completely different from the confusion he normally displayed. He frowned at the paper in his hand and then handed it to Yancy without a word. Fry looked up at the ship, then at Leela. He seemed to come to a decision.

"Okay. I'll come," he said, to Veklerov's evident delight.

"Excellent! I shall prepare-"

"Ohh no, this time _I_ do it," Leela said, folding her arms to match Veklerov's pose. She glared at the pilot until he held up his hands in a sort of mock surrender.

"So be it. See you on the bridge, Sirochka."

The four of them watched the pilot as he retraced his path up the ship's gangway, whistling a jaunty tune and adding the occasional Russian lyric.

"We'd better get out of here," Neena said. She grabbed Yancy's arm and backed away. "Thanks for, well, everything, I'd love to stay and chat but we've got... uh..."

"Plans," Yancy finished. He fidgeted nervously and looked between Fry and Leela. "It's not what you think. Whatever you think it is, it's not, okay?"

Leela rolled her eye toward the ceiling and shook her head. She gave the pair a wry smile. "Whatever you say. Neena, We'll talk when I get back, all right?"

"Sure..." Neena backed away, stopped, smiled nervously and then turned. Leela watched her and Yancy's backs as they walked across the hangar floor. Something tickled at the back of her mind, a vague worry that tore her gaze away from the pair and brought it to rest on Fry.

"She's hiding something, isn't she," Leela said. Fry shrugged, refusing to look her in the eye.

"I have to go and... I have to go and do someone, I mean, something," Fry said and then he was also backing away, holding his hands up at waist height as if getting ready to defend himself. "I'll be back in a minute."

Leela nodded, not quite listening as she tried to work out what she was missing. Had she said something wrong? Had _Neena_ said something wrong? She glanced up at the ship again, briefly wondering what she'd got herself into this time.

"Fry, wait a moment."

He stopped by the door, shoulders hunching slightly. It was almost a repeat of the previous night except, this time, he finally relented and turned to face her again. "What?"

"Look, we need to talk. When you get back, we'll talk, all right? On the ship, just you and me."

"And Veklerov," Fry added. He looked ready to say something more but then seemed to satisfy himself with just a nod. Leela tried to smile. He didn't return it.

She waited until Fry was gone before she finally allowed herself to relax. Leela lowered her head into her hands, massaging furiously at her temples as she tried to drive the headache away. She'd never known a hangover to last so long. In fact, if she thought about it, she'd had a headache ever since they got into this universe. Maybe it was something in the air.

Leela turned to walk up the gangway and then stopped. Something was niggling at the back of her mind again, a sense of intrusion that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. She looked around the hangar, half-expecting to see someone else there and then up at the roof. Most of it was shaded and silent. The owls were congregating at the far end, away from the runners and the machinery that moved the hangar doors. They seemed to be a little agitated but that was probably because they knew the ship would be leaving soon. She couldn't quite shake the feeling of being watched, though.

Any thought of intruders was quickly forgotten as Leela made her way into the ship and found the sort of mess that only a man could leave behind. _Not counting Amy's apartment,_ her treacherous mind added. Leela stared at the first open panel she came across for over a minute, first as she tried to work out why it had been left open, then what exactly was going on within it. A few minutes later found her buried up to her elbows in the guts of the ship as she tried to trace the changes. She didn't hear Veklerov's approach until he was almost on top of her.

"I don't know what the hell you've done here," Leela muttered without looking up. She heard Veklerov snort, amused, or insulted, she couldn't tell.

"It's bypassing the lateral thruster rate limiter, makes landing easier."

"It's also illegal," Leela said, quickly dragging her hands out. She stared at them, trying to hide their shaking nerves. "Not to mention dangerous. You've stripped off the coil housing and almost the entire conduit shield. Have you any idea of the amount of radiation those things put out when they're active?"

"I figure the only people who go past when it's active aren't meant to be on board anyway." Veklerov stared at his nails, tutting and muttering under his breath. "You're stalling."

"I'm not..." Leela stood up and pushed past the Russian before he could goad her into another outburst. "I am _not_ stalling, I am trying to find out how much of a mess you've made of this ship."

"I wouldn't have to do these things if that idiot Professor and his performing monkey gave me the parts."

Which was a sentiment Leela couldn't help but agree with, though she probably wouldn't have called Hermes a monkey. It was rude. Leela found herself nodding and grit her teeth at the thought that she might have anything in common with the man behind her. She made her way through the ship, Veklerov following behind, making a note of all the small and not-so-small changes.

"She must roll a bit when she's fully loaded," Leela mused as they passed the oversized cargo bay. Veklerov muttered an agreement and stood to one side, waiting by the access ladder to the upper decks with a salacious grin.

She made him climb first.

Leela couldn't quite hide her feelings as she looked around the bridge. It was a mess. Worse, it was laid out wrong. The scanners and radio consoles were combined, the control column was completely different and, to top it all, there was no drinks machine. She stood by the command chair, staring at unfamiliar dials and indicators with what felt like a lump of lead sitting in her gut.

"So are you satisfied with your 'inspection', Sirochka?"

"For starters you can stop calling me that," Leela replied tartly. She noted the look on Veklerov's face, that odd, annoying smile again. "And don't think you can charm your way into my pants either. I already know where my parents are."

"Ahh, so the dear star orphan told you how I took advantage of her, did she?" Veklerov leaned against the empty console, where the scanners would have been, and grinned. "Told you how I seduced her with lies and spectacles and left her abandoned and alone, vengeful and betrayed, no doubt."

"That's the gist of it," Leela replied. She sat down and carefully wrapped her hands around the strange steering yolk. "You don't seem to be denying it," she added, looking up. Veklerov shrugged.

"If I deny it, you'll just think I'm lying."

"So you're saying it's not true?" Leela ran her fingers along the console. Where hers was just soothing charcoal emptiness and minimalist instrumentation, here there were dozens of archaic toggle switches and indicators attached seemingly at random. At first she'd thought they were just for show but an experimental shifting of one activated some system deep in the ship; she had felt a dozen or so tumblers thumping into place beneath the deck. Half the labels were hand-written on tape, stuck haphazardly around the dash. The altitude indicator was analogue. Where her control yoke was functionally plain, here was something with about a dozen auxiliary levers attached, and a gaudy, striped fluffy cover wrapped around the grips.

"I'm saying she had unrealistic expectations." Veklerov took a step toward Leela, his hands held out, palm up and that annoying smile fixed permanently on his face. Leela would so dearly liked to have rammed her fist into that stupid grin right then, but it wouldn't have achieved much.

"What's unrealistic about expecting a man to give a damn? Servos... " She ran her fingers along the console again, looking for anything familiar. "Inverter pressure... auxiliary plasma feed... main field backlock? To hell with it."

Leela stabbed at a random button on the console and was rewarded with the re-assuring sound of the main computer powering up. She leaned back, grinning at Veklerov's obvious discomfort. "Piece of cake," she said, casually flipping half a dozen more switches in what felt like the right order. For a moment everything seemed to be all right, until the main power shut down, plunging the deck into relative darkness.

"Piece of cake," Veklerov repeated with just a hint of sarcasm. He leaned across the console, ignoring Leela's narrow-eyed glare. "You forgot primary injector matrix interlock."

"I didn't forget it," Leela retorted, pushing Veklerov away. "We don't have one of those back home. You have so many of the ship's functions manually controlled, I'm surprised you have any time to fly," she added, running through her mental checklist and finding it woefully incomplete compared to the console before her. It wasn't helping with her headache, either.

"I thought so at first but, it makes things more interesting. I thought you of all people-"

"Interesting gets my friends hurt," Leela snapped. She grit her teeth but that just increased the pounding in her head. Her hands carefully traced over the unfamiliar console, seeking out what systems she could remember from the Professor's interminable lectures on space flight. "I don't _like_ interesting."

The ship was slowly coming to life and there was, Leela had to admit, a certain amount of pleasure to be so actively engaged in coaxing that life to the surface. She fixed a scowl on her face to be sure Veklerov didn't get the idea that she was enjoying herself.

Besides, she was still right. The distraction of so much manual control could be fatal at the wrong moment, especially in a fight. "How's Yancy on the main gun?"

"Useless," Veklerov said, seemingly thrown by her sudden change of subject. He turned away, his attention drawn to something on the far side of the hangar for a moment. "Useless. I put Bender up there if I absolutely have to use it. And your friend Philip?"

"Actually he's pretty good, I-" the ship shook itself as the main power came online, giving Leela a simultaneous feeling of pleasure and dread. "I'm surprised this piece of junk can even fly," she muttered as she watched a series of ancient analogue dials plink to their stops before settling into what she supposed was their standard operating range.

"It was worse when I first got here. I had to figure out most of these things for myself, the Professor hadn't labelled them properly." Veklerov squatted down beside Leela, one hand resting on the back of the seat while he pointed at the console. "This here was originally labelled as the engine coolant flow, and this one, the relative velocity indicator, was labelled as the core temperature gauge."

"I can imagine that caused a few headaches." Leela absently fingered the two dials and then ran her hands over a few of the others. There were so many. "Some of these look a little different."

"Yes, I brought a few more of the ships functions through this console to make them easier to monitor." Veklerov pointed at a set of crudely labelled analogue dials and switches. "Main computer interface breaker, gravity pumps, inertial dampeners, propulsion systems regulators and..." he flicked one of half a dozen small vertical indicators until its needle rose from the bottom of the scale. "Atmospherics. It does that sometimes."

"I suppose you've been making your modifications to..." Her voice faded as she turned to look at Veklerov. He smiled at her. Leela didn't smile back. "You're trying something."

Veklerov touched a hand to his chest, his face a picture of innocence wronged. "Oh, why so _cynical_, Sirochka?"

"I told you to stop calling me that."

"Sure, Leela..." Veklerov stood up and walked away, whistling. He stood by the bulkhead, humming tunelessly whilst Leela completed her examination of the controls and then turned to look at her again. "What I said-"

"After last night, Veklerov, I'm surprised you would even want to talk to me. I definitely don't know why I'm talking to _you_."

"You have spirit," he replied. "Lee- _Neena_ has no spirit in her, she lives in her little blank apartment with her little blank life, goes to her little blank job and never does anything exciting with it all."

"Maybe she's just never had the chance."

"I gave her a chance," Vek shot back. "She rejected it!"

Leela turned in her seat and glared at Veklerov. She could almost feel her face turning red from the anger boiling in her gut. "Is that your excuse for taking advantage of her?"

"I gave her what she wanted! I gave her hope and an adventure, why should I be blamed if she was too timid to-"

"Shut up! This was a stupid idea," she said, launching herself from the seat. Leela turned to glare at Veklerov, her hands balling into fists before she could stop them. "How I ever let you talk me into this... this..."

She stopped, dumbstruck, as Fry walked onto the bridge with Amy in tow. Was that his hand quickly letting go of hers, or just the light? Why did she care? "Fry, what the hell are you doing here?"

"Wha..." he stared at her with that same confused expression he always had when she asked him even slightly hard questions. Leela squeezed her eye shut and shook her head.

"Never mind."

"You told me to come," he whined. When Leela opened her eye he was turning away again and Amy was giving her the most vicious look she'd ever seen. Moreso than even the crazy version of her with the laser rifle.

Leela felt her shoulders give way just a fraction. She looked at Veklerov but he was just smiling again. Fry and Amy were locked in some sort of discussion for the moment, leaving her isolated as she tried to work out just where she'd screwed up this time. Last night she had the excuse of being drunk. Now... the headache flared up again, forcing her eye shut. Leela stumbled toward the couch and flopped down on it. There was no point in trying to hide the pain now. Things were so bad, her discomfort would simply be lost in the noise.

There was a rustle of cloth behind her. A familiar sound. She looked up and found Fry standing behind the couch, looking down at her with his head tilted to one side slightly. He wasn't smiling, but he didn't seem angry either. Not as such.

"Leela..."

They fell silent, staring at each other, each unable to really say what they wanted. "You'd better go sit down," Leela said, more to break the silence than anything else. "We'll talk later."

Fry nodded slowly and then turned away, slouched as always with his hands in his pockets, as he stepped back up to the main deck. Leela turned away before he reached the spare console – Amy was sat on the radio console, for some reason. She stared out of the window and braced herself for the launch as the ship reared skywards.


	27. Chapter 27

Yancy heard the ship roaring from the hangar but didn't turn to watch. He paused to listen for a moment, whilst keeping his eyes firmly fixed on Neena's back as she negotiated with the Professor for access to his underground lab. He wondered why they hadn't just followed the directions Phil had given them, but she'd insisted; he'd acquiesced after seeing the look in her eye, with the fervent hope that he'd never have to see it again.

Somewhere in the distance an owl hooted, joined soon by its compatriots as they swarmed back into the hangar. Just another of the twisted little details about the world Yancy found himself in, though at that one was fairly benign as oddities went. The owls were still hooting at each other when the Professor looked over at Yancy and motioned him toward the lab. Which was odd. Yancy glanced over his shoulder at the hangar, wondering what the critters were so worked up about.

"Yancy, my boy." The Professor held out his hand and weakly grabbed Yancy's shoulder. "I don't know why you two are planning to visit the sewers and, frankly, I don't care if you drown down there. However, since you are going, perhaps you could look out for a few radiated stool samples I flushed away this morning?"

"Auh..." Yancy blinked and tried to hide his grimace. "Are you asking me to look for your poop?"

"Oh my, yes. It was an experiment I was conducting, on the effects of certain radioactive isotopes on kitchen appliances such as toasters. Unfortunately I mixed up the yellowcake with some hard buggalo cheese, and, well..." he waved a hand toward a covered cloth in the corner of the lab. The air above it was shimmering. "Hermes is convinced there's someone stealing company food but frankly I think I may just have used it in an experiment without noticing. Anyway, I'd like my isotopes back."

Yancy took a deep breath. He gave the professor a half-hearted nod. "I'll see what I can do, Professor."

"Ahh, good man... now, if you two will just step a little closer..."

The professor indicated the patch of floor immediately before him. Leela and Yancy stepped onto it with a little apprehension – more in Yancy's case. He knew what was coming.

"I suppose you use some sort of-" Neena managed, before the floor dropped away beneath them. Yancy was impressed that she didn't scream even though it was her first conscious visit to the laboratory complex. At the same time he felt a little put out, since he _had_ screamed the first time, all the way down, convinced he was going to be smashed to pieces at the bottom of the elevator shaft. He reached out his hand just a fraction and felt Neena's reaching toward him. Their fingers twined together and she looked at him with a nervous half smile on her lips. But then the look was gone again.

Her reaction to the complex itself was cool at best, with barely an acknowledgement of the sheer volume of the cavernous chamber. She looked around it once from their vantage point on a wall-mounted cargo elevator above the majority of the 'city', made a vaguely appreciative noise and turned to stare down at the nearest road.

"Neena, why are we down here? Phil gave us directions-"

"I know, but we're going to the sewers and I'd rather not be seen climbing down there out in public." Neena looked at him and smiled, so that he was almost convinced. But not quite. "People might get the wrong idea."

"I don't think-"

"Yancy, don't argue with me!"

Neena slammed her fist against the railing, hard enough to bring a sympathetic tear to Yancy's eye. She grimaced, muttered something unrepeatable under her breath and turned away from the view. Her eye, holding the emotions it held right then, was a terrible sight to behold.

"I don't know why but this way is..." She pressed a shaking hand against her forehead and seemed to shiver. "It's better. It feels right."

Neena turned again slightly, watching the Professor as he bumbled around the elevator. They were descending toward the floor of the chamber already. Yancy hadn't even noticed, had no idea when they'd started moving but it didn't seem to matter to Neena. She paced back and forth, her eye fixed on a building in the middle-distance, just beyond the large warehouse that Professor Farnsworth kept some of his larger experiments in.

They drew to a halt with a rumbling jerk. The elevator, free-standing, bounced from side to side a few times as it settled into place and then the railings fell away on either side with a loud _hiss_, to permit an exit. Neena looked at Yancy and the Professor, then marched away down the street without a backward glance.

"What's got into her?"

"Ohh, she's female," Farnsworth mused. "I uh, didn't want to say anything before but I suspect the strain of being in such close proximity to a duplicate of her own mind is causing a few... irregularities?"

"What do you mean?" They started walking after Neena, moving at a much reduced pace so that the Professor could keep up with Yancy. Normally Yancy was used to walking a lot faster than most people, though he was never sure why he did it. It felt safer, as if maybe the past wouldn't catch up with him. Regardless, the pace of their progress was frustratingly slow.

"You understand the implications of such duplication?"

"Not really... isn't it just like cloning?"

Farnsworth shook his head. He brushed the gauzy red strands of his fringe to one side as he spoke. "A mere clone would not have this effect. The problem is that they are duplicated at the quantum level. In fact they are the same particles, in essence, occupying the same quantum probability space even if they appear to be separate events at the macroscopic level."

"I didn't understand a word of that but, please, go on talking." Yancy shook his head. Perhaps he should have paid more attention in science class.

"Quite... well, you at least understand how parallel universes work?"

"I saw a TV show about it when I was a kid but it seemed a bit unlikely."

"Yes, yes, it seems completely preposterous on the surface..." Farnsworth slowed down a fraction from his already frustratingly slow pace as he rubbed his chin. "Say you have just two parallel universes. Normally they would occupy the same physical space but they are completely isolated from each other, in separate quantum probability spaces."

"Like two pictures on the same piece of paper?"

Farnsworth stared at Yancy for a good few seconds, just long enough for Yancy to wonder if he was having another stroke until the old man shook his head and sighed.

"I'd have more luck explaining it to an electronically enhanced monkey... oh, now _that_ would be an interesting experiment, but how would I power it? Sunspots?"

"Professor?"

"Wha? Oh yes, the universe thing. Yes. I... maybe some sort of a hat..."

Yancy grabbed the Professor's arm and pulled him to a halt. "Professor Farnsworth, you have to tell me what's going on!"

"Oh... yes..." Farnsworth shrugged off Yancy's grip and rubbed his arm, glaring reproachfully at Yancy as he did so. "Where was... ah yes, the quantum probability space. Yes. Each probability space describes a possible form for the physical universe if its quantum waveform were to collapse at that point. The problem comes when you take a particle from one space and transfer it into another. You see the effect that would have, surely?"

"Well... no, not really." Yancy rubbed the back of his head and tried to think. "They, I dunno, try and... sit on each other or something?"

"Remarkably enough you're completely wrong. Ah but, you're thinking in the right direction." Farnsworth began walking again, humming to himself as he went. "We're seeing a quantum particle in a superposition of states, which is meant to be physically impossible. Normally just observing a particle collapses it into the most probable quantum state for a given quantum probability space. In this case there seems to be some resistance to that collapse."

"And this is a bad thing."

"I have no idea," Professor Farnsworth said, rubbing his hands together with unconcealed glee. "But I'm going to enjoy finding out, oh my yes. The paradox may just resolve itself in a nice, painless way but there's always the possibility that it will resolve by collapsing back into a single, observable state. In the, uh, meantime there'll be a lot of very interesting science to be done. It could open up all sorts of possibilities!"

"Professor, I really don't understand what you're getting at."

They slowed as they reached Neena, who had stopped in the middle of the street. She was staring at a manhole cover that, Yancy realised, looked like it had been moved very recently. There was even a faint cut in the road surface where the cover had scraped as it was pulled back into place.

Farnsworth tilted his head, staring at the cover without actually looking at it. "I wouldn't expect someone of your mental capacity to even begin comprehending the ramifications."

"Try me."

"Well uh... all right, you see the problem is that these identical particles are effectively entangled. You know what entangling is?"

"Kinda," Yancy said. Neena was still staring at the cover, unmoving as a statue. It was disturbing. "It's where two atoms act like they're the same thing, right?"

"In a manner of speaking. The science of your time had barely begun to probe quantum theory but they saw quantum entanglement as something that had potential to revolutionise long-distance communications. Of course about twenty years after you left, your brother invented the anteluminal interstellar radio, rendering the concept obsolete..."

"Dammit!" Yancy ran his hand over his face and stared toward the distant mural on the wall that had haunted every moment of his life. "Is there anything he _didn't_ do?"

"I uh... well..." Farnsworth frowned, wrinkling his brow a little more than usual. "That doesn't matter! The point is, when two particles are entangled at the quantum level, one particle will reflect changes made to the other. They communicate, instantly, no matter how far apart they are."

"So what does-"

"These two are made up of billions of entangled particles, but their entanglement is a result of the particles _being_ the same instead of merely being linked to each other."

"But what does that _mean?_"

"I can describe the results of observation, but explaining the mechanism behind it would probably give you a brain haemorrhage even worse than the one I'm having right now."

Yancy rubbed the back of his head and sighed. "So really what you're saying is, you haven't a damn clue what's going on?"

"Precisely!"

"Great..." Yancy stepped to one side of Neena, the better to see her face. She was staring at the manhole, her eye fixed and steady, barely even blinking. He waved his hand in front of her face and snapped his fingers a few times, which seemed to grab her attention. "Neena, wake up."

"What... Yancy?" She shook her head and squeezed her eye shut, taking a deep breath and then sighed. "Sorry, I was... actually I have no idea what I was doing."

Neena knelt down and touched the manhole cover. When she looked up her face was pale but determined. Yancy knelt down beside her.

"Neena, why are we down here?"

"It feels right," she said, before levering the manhole cover out of its rest and pushing it to one side, narrowly missing Professor Farnsworth's feet. He didn't seem to notice. The smell of stale sewage drifted up out of the dark pit, sulphurous and dank, but not overpowering. "I don't know why, it just feels..."

She shook her head and shrugged, leaping into the darkness of the sewer before Yancy could react. He shouted after her, then looked about himself in frustration before settling on the Professor.

"I guess I should follow her?"

"Wha?"

"That's what I thought," Yancy said quietly. He patted Farnsworth's shoulder, then clambered down the surprisingly clean ladder to the sewers below.

"And don't forget my isotopes!" The professor's voice echoed around the dim sewer like a forlorn lost ghost, bouncing back from the distant, invisible tunnels until it distorted into a meaningless incoherence. Yancy ignored it and stepped away from the ladder.

The first thing that struck Yancy was just how dark it was, even a few feet from the safety the light immediately under the manhole. The second was how dry everything felt underfoot, as if this part of the sewer wasn't used very often. He stumbled a few steps into the darkness and stopped.

"Hello?"

His voice echoed through the tunnels and back at him, distorted and much louder than he'd expected, and returning for longer than he thought possible as the sound reflected back and forth in numerous side tunnels and tubes. It was like being greeted by a crowd of hollow-voiced relatives. Yancy put out his hands and shuffled forward until they pressed up against a dry, smooth brick wall. He didn't want to think about what was on the wall's surface.

"Neena?"

"Yancy?"

He couldn't tell where she was, but at least she was still around. Yancy stumbled along the wall for a few years and stopped again. He held his breath; another, quiet regular breath sounded a short distance away. "Neena, is that you?"

"Yeah..."

"I can't see a thing."

"Huh. Take my hand."

Yancy felt a hand grab his arm, then his shoulder, before settling on his face. He blinked in the darkness; if he concentrated he could just about make out the shape of Neena's head and hair in front of him so he reached down and-

"_Yancy!_"

"Sorry..." Yancy gingerly removed his hand from Neena's chest and sought out her arm.

"All set?"

He nodded, curious if Neena really could see that well down here. She gave his arm a sharp tug as she set off down the tunnel, which meant either she _could_ see, or just didn't care whether he was ready or not. Yancy's inner cynic decided it was the latter, unfair as the rest of his mind thought that might be.

They strode silently through the tunnels, passing from the dim, musty dryness of the disused sewers beneath the complex to other, damper and much more potent passages. At first Yancy tried to block the smell out but, after a while, it felt like his nose had shut down – all he could feel was the irritation of ammonia and sulphur in the air, stinging his eyes and tickling at the back of his throat, and the slick warmth of methane gas drifting past his skin.

"Neena, this isn't the way Phil said-"

He thumped into Neena's back, almost knocking them both to the ground until Neena managed to right them. She turned in the darkness and peered at him which, in itself, was interesting, as he hadn't expected to be able to see anything at all down here. He realised there was a faint light casting down from somewhere high above, filtering in from side-tunnels and shafts into the sewers.

"His directions were wrong," she said, turning away again and looking around the tunnel. She held up the map for a momen, then quickly screwed it up into a ball and tossed it away into the darkness. Yancy stepped away and almost leaned against the wall until he remembered where he was. He shuddered.

"How do you know?"

"I don't _know_, it just... feels familiar. Like I've been here before." She frowned at Yancy, her gaze almost accusing. "Why would he try to send me in the wrong direction?"

"Maybe the sewers are laid out differently in his universe."

"Maybe." Neena nodded slightly but the frown remained, fixing that little crinkle to her brow. She reached out for Yancy's arm and resumed their trek along the tunnel.

* * *

Hermes knelt down in front of the fridge for what seemed like the hundredth time that day, carefully listing and sorting the contents into a neat set of piles graded for consistency, texture and colour. There was definitely something missing. Half of his jerked pork supply, for one thing, as well as twelve slices of bread, four pickles and six point five portions of the gellatinated non-dairy Gouda flavoured calcium-enriched cheese-style paste. He'd accounted for the food eaten by their new guests and potential employees – the tax breaks from that potential employment more than offset that little loss as long as they didn't become actual employees – but there was still a discrepancy.

He piled the food back into the fridge, making a note to find some way of rationing the remainder to maintain the current food budget. Then he returned to his office, his mind racing gleefully through the number of forms he'd have to fill in to record the unidentified possible theft. It would give him a chance to try out the new stamping technique he'd read about in Bureaucrat's Monthly for April 2998. It had just been delivered that morning.

As he passed by the hangar he noticed a drift of tobacco smoke in the air. He stopped to look into the hanger. "Bender? You in there, ya useless machine?"

No answer. Hermes shrugged and carried on his way, oblivious to the eye staring down at him from the hangar roof.


	28. Chapter 28

Stars drifted past the window of the tiny, cramped guest cabin Leela had been assigned for the trip. It was opposite the one Fry was in – the one he was sharing with Amy, where they were probably... she turned over in a hammock barely large enough to accommodate her, physically acting out the mental effort to put those thoughts from her mind. The hammock rocked back and forth as the ship manoeuvred, swinging her up and away from the bulkhead and then toward it again, just close enough that she feared thumping against it if she didn't pay attention.

The result was that she couldn't rest, as much as she needed to. Nor could she work out how Fry managed to sleep in such horrid quarters. Perhaps she should see her way to getting his cabin upgraded a bit when they got back. Assuming they ever did.

Leela rolled onto her other side and stared at the door. Why Amy? Why now? She flipped herself out of the hammock and stood up, ignoring the irregular sway of Vek's manoeuvring as they came in to land, and made her way out of the cabin and into the corridor.

It was cramped, like the rest of the ship, narrower, and shorter, ending against a truncated medical bay that also included the laundry facilities. No passengers on this ship. Fewer liabilities, more cargo space, yet they still had just two tiny tiny little packages in the cargo bay. Some things just never changed, she thought, shaking her head at the madness of it all.

She soon found herself in the galley. There was no separate mess for the crew, they either ate in the galley or their cabins, which couldn't be too good for crew cohesion. On the other hand, having to spend any length of time with Vek... she grabbed herself a cup of the ship's gut-rotting preprocessed freeze-dried non-baconated coffee-style beverage and sat down facing the door.

Almost on cue, Amy entered, humming a tune to herself. The song died in her mouth when she saw Leela and a frown creased across her pleasing features. "Oh. It's you."

"Yes." Leela stared into her cup and then at Amy again. The intern seemed to put whatever she was thinking to one side for the moment as she resumed her short journey around the galley, for her own refreshment.

Leela tried to put her own thoughts in order again but the presence of Amy kept overwhelming her. She tried to ignore her but she was humming again, and when she passed close by Leela could smell-

"Amy..."

"Laa laa can't hear you!" Amy rattled her cup against the machine and started singing a noisy and annoying song.

"Come on, Amy, how long have we been..."

The words caught in Leela's throat. For a blessed moment she'd forgotten they were in a different world, with different people who only _looked_ like their friends. Amy slowly put down her cup and turned to look at Leela.

"I'm not your friend, Leela."

"In my universe we're best friends," Leela said, reasoning that a little bit of truth-stretching wouldn't hurt right now. "We talk about our problems, we don't hide them from each other."

"What's to talk about? Why should I talk to someone who treats Phil the way you do?"

_Phil_, Leela noted. Not Fry. Did he have anything to say about that? "We're under a lot of strain right now."

"Yeah? Well maybe when you're gone that won't be a problem for us."

The ship rocked and swayed forward in the silence following Amy's outburst, then shook violently as it came to a halt, just enough to rattle the plates in the galley. Leela tried to absorb what Amy had said, tried to fashion an understanding that her mind simply refused to comprehend.

"When I'm... Us? What? Amy, what are you talking about?"

"Oh, didn't he tell you? Well I guess he's just returning the favour!" Amy grabbed her drink and stormed out of the galley before Leela could even understand what she'd just heard.

The door opened again. Leela looked up, hoping for Amy back to her usual happy self, or even Fry in a sour mood would have done, because bitter Fry was better than none at all but, no. It was Veklerov. He closed the door and stood across the table from her, half-smiling. Leela was heartened to see him recoil slightly when she glared at his face, but then he rallied quickly and grinned as he sat down.

"So, Sirochka, how are we now? Headache going away, hmm?"

"I told you to stop-"

"Calling you that, yes, I know," Veklerov said, nodding. He pulled out a sealed packet of cigarettes and offered them toward Leela until he was sure she didn't want one. With a shrug he pulled the packet back and tapped a cigarette out.

"I didn't know you smoked," Leela said once the filter was in his mouth. Veklerov paused, frowning at the question, and examined his lighter.

"Twice a day," he said after he'd lit up. Veklerov snapped the lighter shut and slipped it back into his jacket. "It is a bad habit but I keep it up anyway. It helps to maintain a particular image when dealing with certain clients... and sometimes I admit I enjoy it, too."

He leaned back and took the cigarette from his mouth, trailing a line of smoke through the air as he held it up in front of his face, turning it so that the narrow gold band around the filter revealed a small crest, the same stylised dog's head she'd seen everywhere in this universe. Leela found herself watching the smoke and sniffing with just a hint of familiarity creeping into her mind. The smoke that would normally have her in a coughing fit by now seemed only mildly irritating at worst.

"You sure you don't want one," Veklerov asked, a little bemused at her attention. "You seem interested, if nothing else."

"I don't smoke."

"You used... ahh but, _Neena_ used to, of course, when she was younger." He smiled again, and a little broader still when he saw Leela's reaction to that revelation, and tucked the cigarette back between is lips. "This is like the drink, isn't it? The one she liked and you never heard of before?"

"I think I'd rather forget," Leela replied, resisting the urge to rub her forehead as the hangover made itself felt again. She lifted her cup to take another sip of the coffee only to find it was already empty. "She never told me."

"We all have our secrets," Veklerov said with another more knowing smile. He looked away to finish his cigarette; with his feet up on the table and one arm bent behind his head he looked more like an idle playboy than a pilot. "She told me so the first time we met," he added. "It wouldn't surprise me if she's the one that stole those two packets from my locker this morning."

"I'm... she's not a thief."

"Well someone took them."

Leela closed her eye. The headache was asserting itself again but she'd had no idea where to look for a cure on this ship. When she opened it again she found herself looking into Veklerov's lazy stare.

"You have the most wonderful eye," he said. Leela just snorted, which seemed to surprise him even more. "I mean it!"

"As much you meant it last time, I'm sure."

"I... see. Well, we're making our delivery now. You can go along if you like," he said, with a coy tilt of his head. "Or we can stay behind to, ah, work out the timing of this little competition."

"I'm ready whenever you are," Leela replied tartly. Vek's only response was to take another drag on his cigarette. He stood, with the little white stick hanging from one corner of his grinning mouth, and left the galley without another word. Leela sat back then, her mind racing. She'd never seen him smoking before. Nobody had ever mentioned it. Maybe Amy could tell her? Maybe, if she could convince her to listen instead of just ignoring her. And what was that about Fry?

* * *

Leela was still pondering the question when she entered the bridge. Fry was at his usual seat by the radio, though Amy was nowhere to be seen now. Leela perched on the auxiliary station opposite and turned to watch Fry. She'd never had the chance to just watch him at his job before. Normally she was too busy piloting or thinking about manoeuvres and routes to notice, but he seemed to be pretty good at what he did. What little that was. Maybe she should have appreciated him a little more from time to time... but, then, she had, hadn't she? There had been times when she'd done things for him too. Hadn't there?

Fry turned toward her, half-smiling until his eyes found Leela. He stopped with a visible jump and stared at her, blinking furiously. Then he scowled back at his console. Leela tried not to roll her eye as she turned to survey the bridge. There was Veklerov, calmly examining the control column and apparently ignoring most of it.

He looked up and smiled at Leela. "You have met Wormulons before, I assume?"

"More often than I'd have liked," Leela replied with a grimace. There was no sign of the Slurm factory outside. Perhaps they weren't on the same planet. If Vek drank the foul gunk it might be worth telling him how it was made.

"Strange creatures," was all Veklerov had to add to the thought. He completed whatever check-list he was running through and sat back with a sigh. "So, Philip Fry, now you come into your own eh?"

"I guess," Fry muttered. He spun around in his seat, pausing a moment to look at Leela again before he stood up. Leela tried to think of something to say, something that might re-assure him or bring him back, or just get him to explain what was going on but the words failed her. She stared, mute, at Fry until he turned away with another, darker frown and walked off the bridge. The hatch clanged shut.

"So, you and me, alone again Sirochka," Veklerov said as the sound reverberated away in the too-dry atmosphere of the bridge. He smiled until Leela's silence seemed to sink into his mind. "It is no matter, you two will be leaving soon."

"I don't know..."

"Oh, you think you will stay?" Veklerov chuckled and shook his head. He hauled himself from the seat and walked over to sit by Leela's console. "I wish I could believe it."

"No you don't. Besides," she said, turning a fraction away from Veklerov so she didn't have to look straight at him. Veklerov leaned forward to keep her face in view. "I was talking about Fry."

"Philip is staying? How interesting... and you would just leave him?"

"No! I need... he..."

Leela stopped. Of course she didn't _need_ Fry, she could travel home by herself if she wanted. It wasn't a problem. She'd been alone for most of her life, what was one more universe of loneliness? She had a hard time imagining that journey, nonetheless.

"I would not force you to leave, were I him."

"What?"

Vek stood up again. For once he wasn't wearing the annoying smile Leela had come to associate with the man and, in fact, his entire posture had changed. He looked almost defeated in some way.

"I would not force you to leave," he repeated, firmer than before. Leela turned to face him, tried to work out where this side of the man had come from. "He doesn't know what he's giving up."

"You're just saying that."

"Leela, I am a broken man, I have a much wrong about me, but I'm no liar. I meant what I said before." He lifted his hands a little, palms up, as if offering something to her. "I mean it now."

"All that crap you span to Neena about her eye..."

"I meant all of that," he said, crouching before her, almost kneeling at her feet. He took hold of Leela's hand. For some reason, she didn't immediately shake it free again.

"Vek..."

"I'm getting older, Leela, and, in this profession..." he paused and stared out of the window at the brightening grey-green sky of the world outside. "Chasing around space is a job for the young."

"What are you saying?"

"Just that I'm slowing down, that I'm not as quick to react as I should be. Pretty soon I'll have to quit, or I'll get people killed, and then what will I have? No ship, no life..."

"But, you're barely even forty, that's no age," Leela exclaimed, with just a moment's thought on how fast that boundary was rolling toward her. "Vek you're not making any sense, I could- I mean _you_ could fly for another eighty years."

"As the captain of a garbage scow or a cruise liner, perhaps," Vek replied with a shake of his head. He righted himself and paced across the bridge to the far windows, where he stood, legs apart, arms folded behind his back as he stared out over the dull scenery. "And what a life that would be eh? Flying the same damn route every month, entertaining old women and stupid fat men in private dinners, growing fat and old without any excitement to look forward to."

"Well, when you put it that way..."

Leela walked over to Veklerov's side and put a hand on his shoulder. He looked at her with a weak smile.

"You're saying this whole angry Russian thing, it's just an act?"

"Maybe. You're right," he said, turning back to face Leela. "To reject a man like me for the way I've behaved, you are right. I have not been a good man. But I wouldn't be so stupid to give someone like you up. Not twice. Not again," he repeated, reaching out to take Leela's hand.


	29. Chapter 29

They were lost. Yancy could see that even in the dank twilight of these sewers. They were lost and they'd been lost for quite some time. Neena kept tramping along, not caring where she went as long as she kept going forward, leaving Yancy to trail in her wake through the pestilent stinking tunnels.

"Neena, come on, we've been walking through these tunnels for hours. Face it."

"No."

"We're lost."

"We are _not_ lost, Yancy. I know where I am." She paused under a narrow tube and looked up. A tiny, pale pinprick of light managed to shine out of it, though it looked like it was probably a very long pipe. "I _know_ where I am," she insisted, walking forward.

"Neena..." Yancy jogged a few stops to catch up and grabbed her hand. She rounded on him with an almost inhuman snarl, her fist held at the side of her head so that it seemed she was about to hit him with her elbow. Then she froze, for just a moment, just long enough for Yancy to speak. "Why won't you let us go back and try Phil's directions?"

"They're wrong," she insisted. "They're wrong, they would have taken us away. He didn't want me to find them, he wanted me to... to walk into a trap. He wanted to trick me."

"What? Neena, you're not making sense. Why would Phil want to trap you?"

"I don't know! Maybe he's insane. Yeah that could be it, he's insane, they're both insane. It'd explain a lot."

She stopped again, uncertainty clouding her face, hands clenching and unclenching, making fists that she pressed against her thighs in frustration. She rounded on Yancy as he approached her and grabbed his shirt.

"What are _you_ doing here?"

"Neena, you asked me to come." Yancy put a hand over hers. "You wanted me here. When you met your parents, remember?"

"I..." she let go very slowly and backed away a step. "Yeah. Yeah, when I meet them. Yeah..."

She turned to walk away again, down the slope of the tunnel to an intersection, where she hesitated for a moment before plunging into the dark of a side-tunnel. Yancy hurried to catch up to the cyclops before she disappeared completely. He had no idea of the way out of the sewers now and didn't fancy his chances of lasting long without Neena around. Even if she was going crazy.

The tunnel was dark, but it seemed drier and less used than most. Yancy slopped up from the slimy floor onto a short set of stairs and a platform that wound past a half-open door, stuck in place. He could see Neena at the far end of the tunnel, stood rock-still, her head turning left and right.

Yancy made sure his approach was loud, just so Neena wouldn't be shocked when he arrived at her side again. She didn't seem to acknowledge him though, barely turning to look at Yancy before she shot off down another tunnel. They stopped again in the middle of another intersection and this time Neena turned to watch Yancy approaching.

"I hate to sound petulant but are we done yet?"

"No," Neena said. She wrapped her arms around her front as if she was cold, though in that coat it didn't seem likely. "I need a cigarette."

There was a moment, a pause as the atmosphere of the tunnel seemed to change around them. Yancy felt rather than heard the motion behind him. He turned.

"It would not be wise," a voice said from the shadows. The shape was... odd, and odder still as the man stepped into the light. Yancy managed the stifle the scream in his throat but he couldn't hide his gut-wrenching horror as the figure became clear. Despite the pallid skin and obvious bad hygiene it was roughly a man, as long as you saw him from the one side. Except he had turned as he moved, revealing an arm protruding from the side of his head.

"What do you mean, wise?" Neena stepped past Yancy and stood in front of the... person. "Are you one of the mutants?"

"Just that with all the methane in these older tunnels, smoking is not a good idea. We tend to discourage it," the man said, frowning as he examined Neena's face. He tilted his head to one side and scratched it with that hideously placed arm, his other two clasped before his front. "And yes, I am what you would call a mutant. We all are."

Neena backed away a little, confusion and doubt mixing with just a hint of disgust on her face as other mutants emerged from the shadows of the tunnel, a mumming, near-silent crowd of hideous shapes, limbs and eyes and mouths, their few recognisable faces carrying expressions of fear and mistrust that matched Neena's own.

They gathered in a tight circle around the pair, with the three-armed one standing free of the wall of bizarre bodies. He looked around.

"I have a bad feeling about this," Yancy muttered. Neena didn't respond. She was staring around the crowd, her eye bouncing from face to face with increasing desperation.

"Whom do you seek," the three-armed man asked gently, directing his attention to Neena. She focused on his face without really looking at him. "We are many, but we know one another well."

"I'm looking for... they'd be maybe about my height, older..." Neena's shoulders dropped a little. "They'll have one eye. I don't know their names."

"Oh, those two." Another mutant, apparently female though it was hard to tell. She had an unlit cigarette in her mouth which she kept rolling from side to side, pausing occasionally to suck at it.

"You know them," Neena asked, watching the cigarette move back and forth. The mutant nodded.

"Yeah. They're the loons."

"The sky watchers, some call them," a third mutant chimed up. He had a guitar slung over his back and a forehead that, to Yancy's eye, looked like it could crush a small mammal. And two noses, which probably explained the permanently disgusted look on his face.

Neena's hands twitched. She tore her gaze from the female and her cigarette and focused on the guitar player. "Sky watchers?"

"They spend their lives creeping around the grates and gutters taking pictures of things on the surface," the woman said. Her pig-like nose wrinkled as she laughed, snorting, and pulled the cigarette from her mouth. It was odd, but Yancy actually found her face somewhat endearing, as long as he ignored the gills and randomly scaled skin. Perhaps it was her superficial resemblance to the Planet Express secretary. The familiarity seemed comforting. "Kept talking about wanting a better life for someone."

"But we are the sons of the nightsoil! What better life could they have than ours," the guitarist asked, holding his arms out. The mutant woman turned a disdainful eye toward him.

"_Please_, Dwayne, have you seen your life lately?" She snorted, her laughter cynical now as Dwayne's face fell. Behind them the other mutants began to disperse and wander back into the darkness. "And you can cram that sexist 'sons of the shit' talk as well. Just ignore him," she said, moving in front of the mutant Dwayne. "I'm Vyolet."

"Ne... Leela," Neena said, almost holding out her hand. Vyolet gave the half-raised arm a puzzled look and then seemed to dismiss it. She looked over at Yancy and gave what was probably a mutant's idea of a seductive smile.

"And what's your name, handsome?"

"Um... Yancy." He held out his hand but received the same puzzled look. The mutant examined his hand curiously until he put down again. "I never met a mutant before."

"You can imagine we don't get out much," the three-armed mutant said. He held out his hand for Yancy to take. "Raoul. Most of us don't like to touch strangers."

"Why, are you worried you'll get some sort of disease?"

"Oh no," the mutant said, his face solemn. "Quite the other way around."

Yancy waited until Raoul had turned away before frantically wiping his hand on his pants. He watched Neena until she seemed to come to life again, her face set hard as she turned to pursue the mutants. He followed Raoul and Neena down the tunnel until they reached another junction to a broader, brighter passage.

Behind him Vyolet pulled out yet another cigarette and a lighter. "You'd think they would have offered me a light," she muttered. "First packet of cigarettes I've found in nearly a month."

"You're the only one that insists on using those things."

"Oh please, Dwayne, it's just a harmless habit. It's not like you have to worry about the smell down here," the female said as she held up a lighter. There was a quit _whump_ as the air seemed to explode around their heads. Vyolet blinked in surprise, her face blackened by the soot left from the ignited methane pocket. She turned to glare at Dwayne. "Not a word."

The other mutant just shrugged. They both started after the retreating trio, lost in their thoughts.

"I saw her before," Vyolet said after a moment. "Down here."

"Really?"

"Yeah, she's the one that dropped my cigarettes." She lit a fresh cigarette, holding safely away from her face to prevent a repeat of the previous butt's fate, and took a deep drag.

"Why would she pretend she's never been down here? Surface dwellers are weird." He scratched his side, eyes idling over the floor of the tunnel in case anything interesting floated by. "They all look alike to me."

"She's the first one you've met, Dwayne."

* * *

The mutant town nestled along one edge of a large effluent lake. At first Yancy had mistaken it for the piled up detritus it seemed to resemble, though after realising it was Raoul's apparent destination he'd paid a little closer attention and noticed the first window. As they came closer the shapes of buildings became clear, though it was equally clear that their primary building material was-

"Crap, I dropped my lighter in the lake!"

"I'll get it," Yancy said, his mind not really on the world around him any more. He backtracked to Vyolet's side and leaned down to reach into the murky water. A hand grabbed his shoulder and roughly dragged him away from the lake side. Yancy looked up to find Raoul and Vyolet glaring down at him.

"What-"

"Don't touch the water," Raoul said with an angry shake of his head. "It's mutagenic."

"That means it'll make you like us," Vyolet added as if explanation were needed.

"Oh. Right." Yancy dusted himself down as he stood up. "I guess I appreciate the warning."

Vyolet shrugged and pulled another lighter from her pocket. "Most of our _visitors_ tend to have arrived by falling into it from the surface, so we don't normally need to mention it."

"Oh."

"You two are the first surface dwellers we've had down here in living memory," Raoul said once they were on their way again. "At least, the first that haven't had to become part of our society, such as it is," he added, watching Neena's back with a curious tilt of his head. Yancy shuddered at the way his arm flopped about when he wasn't using it, like some enormous, pendulous... arm.

The town was much larger than Yancy anticipated, large enough to have its own economy of sorts. There were shops and restaurants, at least one school, and in the distance a building shaped a lot like an old church. He didn't want to think about what the brickwork was made from.

"How long have you been down here for," he asked after they wandered the streets for a few minutes. Raoul shrugged, looking around and frowning at some private thought.

"Some say nearly twelve hundred years. Most of us are descended from the inhabitants of the old city who survived the first Great Burial in the early twenty-second century. Our historical records were mostly lost in the great flush twenty-eight twenty-six but I understand some of our archaeologists have found the remains of the earliest mutant settlements in the ruins of the old city."

"But... but I was alive a thousand years ago, there was no way mutants could have existed back then. Even the alligators were a myth."

"The tunnels conceal many things," Raoul said, turning his gaze toward Neena again. He stopped. "You know, I haven't told your friend which roads to take for the last ten minutes yet we're almost at the home of the ones she claims are her parents. Are you sure she's never been here before?"

"Positive," Yancy replied. He looked around. Some of the local mutants were giving him and Leela odd, curious glances as they went about their business. "She wouldn't lie to me."

"Yet here we are."

Raoul pointed down the short street to a small house, one that wouldn't have looked out of place in downstate New Jersey if it hadn't been so clean, with a neat little square of odd growths that he assumed was a garden. Neena was stood in front of the door, one hand on her hip, the other teasing at her tailed hair with a regular twisting motion.

"Neena?" He paused next to her and examined a crudely scrawled sign attached to the door. "Baltimore, huh, does that mean they're not here?"

"I don't know," Neena muttered. She picked up the sign and tossed it to one side before pressing her hand against the door. There she stood, just long enough for Yancy to get a little uncomfortable. He touched Neena's arm.

"Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," she said, seeming to resolve whatever inner conflict she'd faced. She pushed the door open and then paused again on the darkened threshold. Raoul cleared his throat.

"We do generally guard our privacy..."

"I'm their daughter," Neena said. Raoul shrugged again at the explanation. "They wouldn't mind me going in there, they're my parents!"

"Very well."

"Yancy, stay here until I call you, okay?"

Yancy nodded and tried to smile. He backed away a little with his hands in his pockets and slouched against the wall where, to his vague surprise, eh found Vyolet and Dwayne watching him.

"Hi handsome... want a cigarette?"

"I don't smoke."

"Oh. How about a date?"

Yancy found himself chuckling at the incongruity of the whole situation, until he saw Vyolet's hurt expression. She looked away.

"Oh come on, you can't think..."

"We all have our dreams," Vyolet sniffed.

"Yeah, well my dreams-"

Neena screamed. Yancy was at the door of the building without a thought but, when he was there, he stopped, suddenly terrified of his own reaction. The interior was dark and unknown. Anything that could make Neena scream had to be more than a match for him. But then he felt someone poking his ribs.

"Get in there or get out of the way," Vyolet urged, Raoul right behind her, his expression grim.

Yancy nodded and stepped through the door into a dimly lit hallway. Several of the rooms were open and lit by naked light-bulbs, a trail of slimy dirt tracked through them and up, then down the stairs. A strange, sickly-familiar stink pervaded everything, alien even to the all-too-human stench of the sewers. Yancy's eye's twitched.

He moved left, drawn by the sound of Neena's quiet sobbing. The room was fastidiously clean in general but here the smell grew stronger. It wasn't even masked by the mutants as they crowded around the door to look in.

"Oh, _Blast_," Raoul muttered.


	30. Chapter 30

Fry stumbled along a rock-strewn path, sweat pouring down his face from the exertion of running. He stopped by a big boulder to catch his breath, cursing the way fate always did this to him. A laser-bolt smacked into the far side of the rock, forcing Fry onward before he even had a chance to catch his breath.

Normally he had a fairly good idea of what he'd done to screw up a delivery and get them in trouble. Sometimes it was Leela's fault. Sometimes the clients didn't like their package and decided to shoot the messenger – literally in some cases. Sometimes he just... screwed up. This time he didn't have a clue, but he hadn't had the time to try and find out either given the way they'd decided to just start shooting at him. So he'd run.

He saw Amy up ahead, staring down the hill at him. She'd been keeping a watch, she said. And she'd brought a gun, the same slow-charging laser rifle that another version of her had tried to kill Fry with. She was staring down at him now, aiming along the narrow gulley he'd run up. The laser fired, sizzled over his head and hit something behind him. The gurgling scream of a Wormulon told him this Amy was a better shot.

"Phil, come on already!"

She ran down the gulley to him, discarding the rifle as she grabbed both his arms and hauled him back up the slope. The ship was on the far side of the hill, sitting on a plain landing pad, little more than a slab of concrete with a homing beacon at one side of it. Laser fire skimmed the crest of the hill as they stumbled down the far side, gasping for breath in the dusty air, leaning on each other for support.

They reached the landing pad just before the first of the Wormulons crested the hill, screaming imprecations and insults as it fired its laser rifle into the air. Laser bolts began to burn the concrete around the ship as more of the worms joined their companion, taking more careful aim than the first. Fry almost stopped when he realised the ship was still silent. Wouldn't it be powering up for their quick escape by now?

He didn't stop though, preferring life to death as he blundered up the gangway, his hand slapping at the airlock control as soon as he was aboard. The hull resounded to the sound of laser bolts, and now plasma weapons, hitting its outer skin. It was strong enough to withstand the hand-held weapons but who knew how long before they brought in something stronger?

"We have to get out of here," Amy said. Fry nodded, still panting for breath, and started climbing up the ladder to the top deck.

They bridge was empty when they reached it, worn out and not really capable of thinking straight. Amy stumbled to the scanner seat and sat down with a sigh, ignoring the ineffectual flashes of laser against the bridge windows. After a moment of silence she looked around the bridge with a worried frown.

"I guess this explains why nobody bothered helping."

"Yeah," Fry muttered, turning from the bridge, worry creeping into his mind as he ran the short distance to the captain's cabin. What if they'd taken her while he was gone? No that wouldn't have happened, there'd be more mess for one thing. She was probably asleep. Sometimes she worked so hard she forgot to rest. More than once he'd found Leela slumped asleep in the pilot's seat.

He ran up against the door and yanked it open. "Leela, wake up, we need-"

Two thoughts ran through Fry's mind at that moment. The first was that this wasn't Leela's cabin. It was too messy, and smelled just a little bit, of stale underwear and cheap alcohol. The second was that the bed seemed a bit lumpy.

Someone mumbled from across the dimly lit cabin. There were clothes scattered across the floor, familiar and foreign at the same time. Fry stepped over the piled garments until he was at the side of the bed, looking down on Leela's sleeping face. He wanted to reach out and touch it, to stroke her hair and whisper sweet nothings to her, but he had never been able to think of anything to say, and if he touched her in most circumstances the least he could expect was a broken finger.

And there were other reasons not to, now. He let out the breath he hadn't realised he was holding, letting her name whisper through his lips at the very end and she woke, instantly, her eye searching about for a moment until it came to rest on Fry's face. She smiled in the moment Fry knew too well, when memory was lost and the mind operated on its most basic, honest level, and then he saw her memory returning. Leela's brow rose slightly and her eye, her beautiful eye, took on a pained brightness. She swallowed and turned her head very slowly to one side.

"Oh. God... not _again_..."

They stared at each other in silence until Leela shifted, pushing the covers aside as she slid out of the bed to put her head in her hands. It took a moment for Fry to realise what was going on, what he was seeing, but then a bright flush spread up his neck and face and he quickly looked away. "Leela..."

"What? Oh..." she let out a sigh but didn't make any effort to move. "Why should it matter any more, Fry? I screwed up. I..." she glanced over her shoulder at Veklerov's still-sleeping form and shuddered. "It's like Zapp all over again. Hell it's worse. This time I knew he was an arrogant dick _before _I slept with him."

"I guess that shows tolerance," Fry mumbled. Leela almost smiled at the crack. Almost. He picked up her top and held it out with one hand held over his eyes.

"What's that noise," Leela asked once she was a little more decent. She cocked her ear to an irregular thudding noise somewhere outside the ship. Vek was still asleep. Snoring. Leela took in the sights of the dimly lit cabin and sighed.

"The Wormulons attacked me, that's why we're back so... so early."

"They did what? Fry why didn't you-" Leela clamped her mouth shut and glanced over at Veklerov again. "Never mind. Come on, we'd better get out of this mess."

Leela strode across the cabin, pausing to grab her boots and wristimajig before she left. Fry looked around the room, refusing to lay his eyes on Veklerov's prone form. The man started to snore.

"What about-"

"Forget him," Leela growled.

* * *

Fry meekly followed Leela back to the bridge, where they found Amy sat in the pilot's seat with her feet up on the dash. She turned to look at Leela with an odd, haughty stare that didn't suit her.

"Having fun?"

"No," Leela shot back. She sat down at the spare console to pull her boots on, glancing out at the nearby ridge as she did so. A line of baying, yelling Wormulons stared back at her, occasionally firing their weapons at the ship, or in the air, or even into the ground, but only rarely at the ship itself.

"What the hell is going on," she asked, turning to look at Fry and Amy. The both shrugged.

"All I know is, they started chasing me for no reason." Fry stared out at the creatures lining up around the valley. "They were asking me questions and then they suddenly started just yelling and throwing rocks at me. More than usual. They really hurt..."

"They were pretty mad," Amy added. She looked at her feet. "I kinda shot one, too..."

Leela turned sharply to stare at Amy, unable to hide her surprise at the young interns admission. "You shot one of them? Great! Now we're going to be charged with murder!"

"No, he's still alive, see?" She pointed out of the window at two very small Wormulons who were supporting a standard sized rifle between them. Leela stared at the diminutive pair for a moment before shaking her head and looking around the valley again.

Something caught her eye toward the end of the valley, a glint of sunlight on metal. "Oh lord, they're sending in tanks. Fry what the hell did you _say?_"

"I just told them our names!"

Amy sprang from her seat on Fry's reply. When she spoke, her voice was shaking. "Even Vek's name?"

Fry nodded dumbly. "What's wrong with that?"

There was a thud. The bridge door slid open, admitting Veklerov in a hastily donned pair of pants. Leela's eye widened as simultaneous thoughts of desire and disgust clashed in her hind-brain. She looked away.

"It's a grave insult in their language," Veklerov said, pulling on a coat over his bare chest. "I don't know what. I think it's to do with parentage, but my name drives them crazy."

"Perhaps they knew it by reputation," Leela grumbled, _sotto voce_, running her hands across the controls as she tried to remember the start-up sequence. She pushed the throttles to their stops before the ship had even fully finished powering up, blasting them from the launch pad and into the cloudless sky.

A single shot from the approaching tanks whistled harmlessly past the ship as they ascended. Leela felt herself relaxing after the sudden tension, enough to sit back and loosen her grip on the control column.

"You've turned up the gravity pumps," Veklerov said, his voice studiously neutral. He was frowning at the console. Leela shrugged.

"I like a smooth ride."

"I like the excitement..."

"I get plenty of 'excitement' just flying the damn ship without having to introduce more." Leela looked away and rolled her eye. "If you didn't want me to change the setting you shouldn't have shown me where they were."

The ship lurched to port and seemed to rear up and back. It leapt forward again, engines coughing and straining, then losing power, then roaring to life again. A klaxon horn blared somewhere deep inside the ship and the panel before her lit up like a Christmas tree, dials spinning and waving as the familiar whine of the bridge machinery wound down to a low gurgle and then disappeared altogether.

The engines cut out.

For a few seconds their velocity kept them arcing up on a long parabolic curve, the sound of tenuously thin mesospheric air whistling past the outer hull suddenly very loud in the silent bridge but, eventually, gravity began to assert itself. The ship began to fall belly first toward the planet.

"Well this is fun," Veklerov said, grabbing hold of the back of the pilot's chair. He grinned at Leela as they began to free-fall. "Want me to-"

"No!"

Leela ran her mind back over the start-up sequence she had tried before, testing every step to see which she had missed. _Of course!_ She stabbed a finger at the toggle marked 'primary matrix interlock'. Nothing happened. With a nervous titter she tried the switch again, flipping it back and forth until the toggle broke off in her fingers with a loud _snap_.

She held up the broken switch and stared at it with a dazed, giddy sensation in her gut that wasn't entirely due to the ship's free-fall. Veklerov sighed and took the scrap of metal from her unresisting hand. He held it up to the light and then let it drop very slowly to the floor.

"Oh boy," he said as his feet rose from the deck. "I hate microgravity."

"Is that where the planet is really small? Ow..." Fry pushed himself away from a piece of equipment mounted on the ceiling and drifted across the bridge. "Remember the last time this happened, Leela? It was kinda fun, at least when the autopilot wasn't trying to kill us."

Amy let out a damp burp and slapped both hands over her mouth.

"Do it below decks," Veklerov yelled, shoving a pale-looking Amy across the bridge to the access ladder. He grabbed the back of Leela's seat with both hands and span himself around to face the console again. "Try restarting the engines."

"You think I haven't been doing that for the last..." another jab at another button that elicited a loud beep. A steaming cup of coffee rose up from the top of the console and then drifted off across the bridge, trailing perfectly shaped brown liquid spheres behind it.

Leela and Vek stared at each other.

"I always wondered if there was drinks dispenser up here. Look, I know this ship-"

"Obviously..."

"I know it better than _you_, let me get it started again before we die!" He reached out to touch the console, grimacing. "_Zacroy rot, _Amy, you got your bootprints all over this thing!"

Leela hiccuped and felt a twinge of bile in her throat. The freefall was starting to get to her, despite her normally stout constitution. She pulled at her buckles to tighten them and returned her gaze to the control column. "I'm not letting you use this as some sort of proof you're better than me, Vek."

"Better, who cares about better, we're going to die!"

"Just so we're clear," she said before unbuckling from the seat. Leela pushed off from the control column and let herself drift toward the ceiling . Another careful push with her feet sent her back to the floor near a spare seat. She strapped herself in and turned to look at Fry.

He was holding onto his seat, oblivious to the apparent danger, watching a glob of coffee sail through the air with a vague interest. It had always surprised Leela how well the kid had taken to space. He enjoyed free-fall when most modern people could barely stand a fast moving elevator, which was something she'd never had a problem with either, come to think of it, and time and again he'd shown her the excitement outside the safe confines of her life.

Excitement... she stared at Veklerov and frowned. She did want excitement, otherwise why was she here? But Veklerov's idea of 'exciting' was focused entirely on how much control he could take. Fry's was...

The ship lurched as its main power came online and with it, the gravity systems, seeming to thrust the deck up beneath Leela's feet. A loud yell below decks told them Amy had discovered the working gravity field, too. She crawled from the access ladder a moment later, one hand pressed over her eye as she muttered under her breath. Leela tried to keep her face straight as Amy made her way to the passenger couch and flopped down.

"Now that wasn't so hard, was it," Veklerov intoned as he manoeuvred the ship into a stable orbit. He glanced over his shoulder at Leela. "It is no shame to admit it, Leela."

"Admit what?"

"That I am the better pilot. After all, who was it that saved us from this disaster?"

Leela's jaw felt like it dropped almost to the deck. The bridge felt almost silent as the implied insult was absorbed amidst the quiet clicks and bleeps of overstressed equipment and the faint growl of the engines. Veklerov rolled his eyes at Leela's silence.

"I suppose you aren't denying it," he muttered, evidently having hoped for something more substantial. Behind him Fry leaned over his console, staring at the plot.

"Um... guys?"

"You asshole," Leela growled. She slapped the seat restraints away, glaring at Veklerov without respite. "You promised you weren't going to use this-"

"I made no such promise!"

"Guys?"

Leela trod the three steps to Veklerov's side with leonine menace, the intensity of her anger reflected in her stance and posture as she very gently placed a hand each on the back of the pilot's seat and the console. The composite seat creaked ominously under the pressure of her grip.

"A little ungracious aren't we, Sirochka?"

"Call me that again if you're tired of living. You tricked me!"

"I would say you tricked yourself," Veklerov replied. He shrugged and turned away, tension drawing his shoulders toward the control column, as if guarding it. "You trick yourself all the time."

"Oh that's rich coming from-"

"_Is anyone going to listen to me!_"

They all stopped to look at Fry, prompting a momentary flicker of worry on his face. Even Amy was looking at him. He stabbed a finger at the console.

"This thing is making noises."

Veklerov relaxed back into his seat, glancing at Leela once or twice before clearing his throat. The silence that followed was very cold. He cleared his throat again and looked pointedly at Leela's hand on the console. She waited just long enough to see him getting ready to clear his throat _again_ before removing it.

"So," Veklerov said once he'd settled in. "What do the scanners tell you, Philip?

"Well, there's this green thingy here," Fry replied, poking at the scanner screen. "And there's these three red thingies moving toward the green thingy. Oh, and..." Fry paused to chuckle to himself. "I think we're the green thingy."

Veklerov and Leela turned to each other in shared confusion. "Does he do that a lot?"

"All the time. Fry, how long until they get here?"

"I'd say right about... now." Fry looked up at the silence then down at the screen again. He frowned. "No, wait-"

A crackling blast rocked the ship and threw Leela to the floor. She landed awkwardly, for a moment blinded by the pain of her hip slamming against the deck, but still just able to see the three fighters that swung past the starboard, menacing silver darts with incongruous lattice-work arrays of weaponry wrapped around their midpoints.

She tried to stand but her leg refused to move, though it wasn't obviously broken. Leela grit her teeth and hauled herself across the heaving deck to the auxiliary station. The ship rolled, bright constellations wheeling past the window as Vek manoeuvred them away from the fighters though, fortunately for Leela's side, he hadn't got around to turning the gravity pumps down again.

Another loud explosion as the fighters made another pass, this time accompanied by a stunted yell from Amy as she was thrown from the couch. She huddled down on the floor and curled up in a ball. Veklerov was still manoeuvring, now with one hand wrapped around one of the unidentified levers on the control yoke. Leela heard the grinding rumble of the main gun turret rotating and glanced at Fry. He shrugged back at her. Bender wasn't on board, nor Yancy...

"You're controlling the _gun_?"

"No distractions!" Vek's jaw tensed, his eyes locked on the overhead screen which carried a view from the turret's targeting array. He fired, sending a stream of plasma bolts toward one of the fighters and just missing it. "Dammit, that's your fault!"

"My fault?" Leela looked at Fry again, taking in the fear in his eyes and wondering if she was showing the same. "Vek, you can't control the ship and the guns at the same time!"

"Is easy, like fighter pilot, just bigger! Now leave me be so I can save your pretty bottom for another visit to my cabin."

She stood up, ignoring the sharp stab of pain in her leg as she limped back to Vek's side. "What did you say?"

"I save your ass, you reward me wi- _aiep!_"

Leela dragged Veklerov from the seat, almost tearing the half-secured restraints from their mounts as she brought his face level with her own. He smiled nervously and glanced down at Leela's arms and hands clamped firmly on the lapels of his jacket.

"Ah-heh, been working out have you?" He patted Leela's arm and tried to smile again but her wordless glare seemed to unnerve him even more. The fighters zipped past the windows again, launching another withering volley toward the ship. "You are making it hard to defend ourselves..."

"No, I'm going to make it a lot easier," she said, dragging Veklerov away from the control column. "Fry, you know what to do."

"I..." he glanced up at the bridge ceiling, comprehension dawning on his face. "Right!"

Leela watched Fry leave before dropping Veklerov on the floor. "Now you, stay out of the way while I save us."

"You... what are you trying to prove, Leela?" He lurched to Leela's side as she strapped herself in. Leela ignored him. "This isn't a game any more!"

"No, it isn't."

"But I was saving the ship!"

"You were saving your damned ego, Vek! You can't control every single function on a ship this big _and_ fly it _and_ control the weapons at the same time!" She stabbed a finger at the controls, de-activating the manual settings on half a dozen systems. The ship seemed to shudder and leap as if released from a cage. "Fry?"

"_Ready!"_

... and she was back in her element. The anxieties and fears of the last two weeks melted away as Leela focused her entire will into the flight, out-manoeuvring the fighters, presenting them with the smallest target whilst giving Fry the greatest opportunity to shoot back. The first of the fighters exploded in a riotous flash of orange and green, the second a few moments later.

"One left," she muttered, bringing the ship around. It handled a differently with so much of its mass concentrated in the top of the hull. Rolling just a bit. Leela glanced up at the overhead display, still tuned to the gun's targeting systems and grinned, feeling the strange, feral heat of pursuit as she closed in on the prey. The gun unleashed a final torrent of plasma, tearing the remaining fighter from the sky.

"Amy, scan the area, I want to know if they're chasing us."

"Yes... right..." Amy limped to the scanner console, giving Vek a quick and apologetic glance before she sat down. "Four ships leaving the surface, they won't reach us for another ten minutes."

"Plenty of time," Leela replied. She pushed the engines to full power, drawing the planet and the fight away in mere moments as they rocketed out into deep space. Destination was unimportant for now.

Fry stumbled into the bridge nearly a minute later, flush-faced and breathing hard from the excitement of the battle. He paused at the door to catch his breath only to be bowelled over by Amy, who leaped at him with an incoherent yell of delight. Leela turned away from the scene and tried not to sigh.

"Lonely at the top," Veklerov repeated, quickly raising one eyebrow as that inanely annoying grin returned. "We could-"

"God, you never give up, do you." Disgusted that she had ever fallen for him, Leela pushed Veklerov away and swivelled to face Amy and Fry. "When you two are quite finished, Fry, we need to talk."

"Um, sure," Fry said, extricating himself from Amy's grasp for a moment. He rubbed the back of his head, face full of confusion and other things that were entirely understandable given where Amy's hands were roving. He wrapped his arm around Amy and turned to leave.

"Fry, wait..."

Fry turned back. He seemed angry. "What?"

"I just... you did good."

Fry stared at her blankly, then nodded once with just the twitch of a smile dragging at his mouth. He turned away again, a little slower this time. The door swished shut behind him, leaving Leela alone on the bridge. Or, almost alone.

Veklerov was leaning on the auxiliary console, arms folded across his chest, with an unusually dour expression on his face. He refused to look at Leela when she stood up.

"You can have your ship back now," she said, keeping her voice neutral as she could manage. Veklerov stared at her as if he hadn't realised she was there.

"Can I?" He looked away again, jaw tightening under a scowl that could have melted the paint from the bulkheads. "You've taken away the one thing I could control and changed it completely."

"I realise things aren't quite the same in this universe but you can't expect to be able to control everything you interact with."

"It's easier!"

"Apparently not," Leela replied archly. She folded her arms, mirroring Vek for just a moment. "I'm going back to my cabin."

She turned, conscious of Veklerov's eyes on her back as she walked from the bridge, waiting for him to say something to justify the anger she felt. For once, and annoyingly, he remained studiously silent. But that wasn't it. Leela paused in the short gangway between the cabins, listening in the relative silence of the ship for the sound of, well, _anything_ out of the ordinary but she couldn't hear anything. The silence from Fry's cabin was particularly telling. Nobody was that quiet unless they were having fun.

The thought was almost enough to maintain the anger she'd felt toward Fry. Almost, but not quite, with the memory of her own slip still fresh in her mind – and elsewhere, though it didn't bear thinking about – Leela had a hard time justifying her hostility. The truth was, she needed the kid, and it looked increasingly likely that she'd lose him for good this time.

Leela backed up against her cabin door and stared at the opposite portal until she'd made up her mind. She reached across and knocked on the door. It was opened by Fry a moment later. He didn't seen particularly pleased to see her, or in general, if she thought about it. There was no sign of Amy either. Fry stared at her, his face sullen and closed despite the momentary connection they'd had earlier.

"Still want to talk?"

"I guess..." he backed up into the cabin, giving Leela space to enter.

It was little different to the cabin he shared with Bender in their home universe. Maybe smaller, more cramped, but the feel was the same, something like a robot's apartment, a place designed purely for rest and little else. It took Leela a moment to realise that the hammocks ruled out some of the more imaginative scenarios she'd been expecting to find. Did Amy have a cabin to herself here?

"So..."

"Why are you leaving me behind?"

"Hmm?" It took a moment for the words to sink in. Leela frowned. "Fry, what are you talking about?"

"You, you said..." he faltered, confused. "Didn't you leave a message on Yancy's phone saying you were leaving me here?"

"I know I was pretty drunk last night but I doubt I did that. Fry, you actually believe I'd leave you here?"

She left a moment for Fry to answer. He remained silent, giving her all the answer she needed. Leela found herself looking for something to sit on. There was only the hammock and she didn't trust that, not with Vek's odd flying habits.

"As far as I'm concerned you were the one who was planning to stay." With Amy, she didn't add. And she didn't have to, it was plain from the way his face turned pink. He glowered at the floor.

"I don't get it, Leela. Everything you've said up to now has been like you wanted to get rid of me. You kept acting like I was in the way all the time and then when you were all over the Scottish guy I sorta got mad. And then that message came. I, I thought..."

Either Veklerov had left the gravity settings unchanged or he wasn't controlling the ship yet. She leaned against the bulkhead and folded her arms, regarding Fry for a moment. He looked so utterly dejected, in a way she didn't recall ever seeing before. Or maybe once or twice.

"Fry, I'm sorry if that's the impression I gave you. It's not true."

"So why did you, y'know, do it?"

"What does that have to do with anything? It's my life, I..." Fry stared at her with his wide-open face flinching at every word she said, as if each was a dart striking deep into his soul. She sighed. "I don't know, all right? He tricked me. He tricked Neena and then he tricked me. All I wanted was someone who understands how I feel and it felt like he was giving me that."

Fry blinked a few times, licked his lips and looked away without speaking. He flopped onto the lower hammock with an agility that she couldn't entirely put down to practice, folding his hands behind his head and staring at the ceiling.

"I know, I know, welcome to your world," Leela muttered. She was getting a little frustrated by the lack of a seat and Fry rocking back and forth, apparently contented to just lie there, didn't help her mood in the slightest.

"You didn't have to sleep with him."

"No. Not that you should care."

He sat up again, straddling the hammock so he could rest his arms on his knees. Fry stared at the wall. Perhaps it made a change from the ceiling. "I care..."

"Well stop it, it's clouding your judgement."

"Leela, I _care_. I do understand how you feel and I also know every time you go out with one of these rich power-mad control freaks you end up getting hurt. I don't-" he closed his eyes in surrender and lay back in the hammock again. "What's the use, you'll just act like I'm being an idiot, same as always."

"You're not an idiot, Fry. I..." Leela's voice disappeared in her throat. She could sense something, almost like a shockwave rushing toward her in some twisted set of dimensions locked away from her normal perception. She shivered.

"Leela?"

"I..."

It came like a simultaneous punch to her head and solar plexus, tearing away any sentient thought for a brief moment just long enough to be noticeable. All Leela could do was grab her head and wail as an inexplicable terror washed over her, stripping away all the barriers she'd built up around her most intimate fears. She closed her eye and screamed, her mind filled with images too horrific to bear, driving Leela to her knees. To pound the deck with clenched fists, as if that would drive out the demons birthing inside her skull.

Leela felt hands grabbing at her arms. Arms pulling her back into the darkness, the tunnels where the- the _lies_ were hiding so she lashed out, trying to escape the creatures holding her and trying to steal her soul. Out of the corner of her eye Leela saw a flash of red. Her fist connected with something soft and yielding and she heard a swallowed yelp.

The terror left her as suddenly as it had arrived. Leela found herself lying on the floor, shivering terribly, her clothing soaked in cold sweat. Two pairs of feet opposite her face shuffled back and forth.

"She's been like this for nearly ten minutes, I don't know... she just yelled and punched me in the face and then went crazy."

"Maybe she's on her period."

"Urgh! Why do women always..." Fry choked back his words as Leela opened her eye. She peered up at him through a disorienting haze, unable to properly see his face, only able to make out a vague red and pink blur where his head should be. "Leela! You're awake?"

"Either that or I'm having the worst nightmare I ever remember," she replied, feeling the soreness in her throat. Surely she hadn't been screaming that much? But it hurt to talk, even so. "Help me up."

They both grabbed her arms. Leela instinctively stiffened as they pulled her upright, remembering just for a moment the feeling of being dragged down by the monsters in her terror. She forced herself to relax.

The air felt cold and clammy and her hair was plastered to her skull, soaked with sweat. Every part of her body felt as if it had been pummelled by the pain monster, even her eye, which felt dry and puffy. She'd been crying, that much was obvious, but over what?

"Fry, what- oh!"

"Yeah." Fry gingerly rubbed the livid bruise around his eye and shrugged. "It's ok, you weren't really thinking straight."

"I'm sorry, Fry. You know I'd never do that on purpose."

"Unless it was really important," was Fry's solemn reply. He fingered the bruise again whilst Amy examined Leela's face.

"What happened?" The intern-cum-engineer was showing uncharacteristic concern for her, from Leela's experience of this universe.

"If I knew..."

Leela swayed a little, overcome by a sudden dizzy spell. She looked around herself for a seat before remembering where she was. Amy and Fry, both taking the hint, grabbed one arm and walked her out of the room.

"Thank god the sickbay is on the same deck," Leela muttered as they marched her down the corridor. She didn't want to think about the pair of them manhandling her down the access ladders.

They manoeuvred her into an examination chair in the sickbay. Fry dutifully provided a very large glass of water and Amy managed to surprise her by completely forgetting the animosity she'd displayed earlier. It was almost like being home again.

"Home!" She sat up, spilling her water on the deck as her hands spasmed from another very brief flash of fear. "We have to get back, she's..." Leela grabbed Fry's arms and pulled him close. "We have to get home! Now!"


	31. Chapter 31

The crowd at the end of the street was growing, slowly but surely, as whispers about the outsider spread around the mutant city. They were murmuring and milling about, curious, terrified, intrigued by the stranger in their midst but strangely un-angered by any rumour of what had happened.

Yancy spat the last of the vomit from his mouth into the runnel in front of the house and stood up, light-headed and hollow. He leaned a hand against the wall, oblivious to the faint patina of corruption across its surface that was the heritage of everything built in the sewers. He was beyond caring now. Across the street, as he turned, he saw Neena crouched in the shadows of a narrow passage between two other buildings, her unseeing eye locked on the wall in front of her, both arms wrapped around her knees for support.

Her first reaction had been... not violent, but certainly ferocious. It had seemed as if all her fears and anger had sloshed out in one giant, overwhelming wave. She'd attacked them without any warning and without seeming to realise who they were until Yancy had managed to talk some sense into her. Poor Raoul was nursing a rather nasty black eye.

He crossed the street, ignoring the mummer of the mutant crowd at the sight of his brazen invasion of their secret world. Their sanctified privacy. The pictures on the walls of the room where Neena's parents had died seemed to contradict the sentiment.

Neena didn't acknowledge Yancy's approach, nor did she seem to even notice when he crouched down next to her. For a moment Yancy was unsure of how to react. She seemed to have returned to the near-catatonic state she'd been in the first time he'd told her.

"This was my fault."

Only after she reacted did he realise he'd said it out loud. Stubborn refusal to back down forced him to return her glare with a defiance he didn't feel. She looked away again, wordless. Emotionless.

"Neena..." what could he say, in the face of something like that? "I'm sorry."

Nothing, again. She didn't even change her rate of breathing. The only sign she was even listening was the slight narrowing of her pupil, a stress reaction rendered blatantly obvious on her distorted face. But beautiful, some part of his mind said. Why had it said that?

"There wasn't anything you could do..."

Footsteps. Yancy glanced up at the approaching mutant, the one called Vyolet. She was holding her hands out at an awkward angle, uncertainty clouding her face as she approached, as if she was worried Neena might lash out again. Vyolet halted a few strides short of them and cleared her throat.

"We're about the move the bodies," she said quietly. Yancy and Neena both looked at her, uncomprehending, leading Vyolet to scowl with more than a little frustration. "We need you to decide."

"Decide what?"

"How they're disposed." she moved a little closer and knelt down, touching Neena's bare arm with one hand. They both shivered at the touch, Neena from the touch of such mutated flesh and Vyolet, apparently, from the general taboo on close contact in the sewers.

Yancy stared across the street and then down at the distant lake, a disturbing conclusion forming in his mind. "What do you mean, disposed?"

"Oh. You don't do this on the surface?" She took out her cigarettes and poked one into her mouth. "They can be recycled in a lot of different ways."

"Recycled?"

"In the recycling pits on the other side of the lake. It's where we grow a lot of our food, amongst other things."

She lit the cigarette and took a long drag on it, brightening Neena's face with an orange flare that appeared to linger in her eye just a little longer than it should have. Suddenly Neena seemed to snap out of her senescence. She turned to look at Vyolet. Her eye narrowed slightly.

"Cigarette," she muttered, plucking the half-empty packet from Vyolet's unresisting hand. She tucked one into her mouth before tossing the packet back and retrieving a steel-cased live-flame lighter that Yancy hadn't even known she was carrying. The flare of its flame reflected in her eye seemed to enhance the sudden darkness Yancy thought he could see in there.

"Neena, you don't smoke."

"I do whatever I want," she muttered, drawing hard on the cigarette. The smoke curling from her mouth and nose as she breathed out lent her an almost demonic seductiveness. "Recycling..."

"We value our bodies too much to waste them."

She fixed another glare on Vyolet. "My parents will be buried in a proper grave."

"But... but that isn't the way-"

"You'll do what I tell you to do, you god-damned freak!"

The gun seemed to appear out of nowhere, its crude metal barrel making an audible 'thump' as Neena jammed it against Vyolet's head, followed by a dangerously quiet click as she thumbed back the pistol's hammer. The mutant blinked in surprise at the sudden escalation of the situation. She held up her hands and slowly backed away.

"Sure. Sure... whatever you want," she said, trying to sound as conciliatory as possible as she backed out into the street, before turning to run back to the mutant crowd. Neena, breathing deeply, lowered the gun a fraction, her eye narrowing and widening as if she was having trouble seeing and her lips moving slightly.

"Um..." Yancy said, only to find the gun pointing at his face. He screwed his eyes shut. There was a ringing thud, metal against soil, and then Neena started sobbing out loud again, her arms reaching out to grab his.

"I lost them, Yancy. I lost them! I was so close!" She fell against him with a loud sob, knocking Yancy back onto his haunches so that he ended up leaning against the wall, his legs sprawled out on either side of Neena's. She pawed at his coat, keening and sniffling without ever managing to cry. The cigarette was long gone.

"I..." he patted her back, feeling pathetically unable to deal with the situation. Neena seemed to take a little comfort from it though, snuggling up against his chest, her self-pity reduced to a barely audible moaning.

"How... how can they be so callous?" She stared across at the silent house, one hand rubbing the worst of the tears from her face. They were bringing the shrouded bodies out into the open now, preparing them to be taken to whatever passed as a morgue in the mutant city. "They recycle their own dead. How can they do that?"

"It's probably just a reaction to the environment they live in," Yancy said, not really thinking. Why was he defending them?

"It's disgusting. Pitiful..." she lurched away from Yancy, grabbing the gun as she heaved herself upright, before stuffing the pistol into her belt. Yancy scrambled after Neena as she stalked across the road to the small knot of mutants gathered around the bodies of her parents. The nearest pair saw her coming, noticed the menace in her eye and quickly stepped out of the way, giving Neena a free path to her father's side.

She stopped by his body, looking down at the shroud that covered his face. For a moment she hovered her hand over it, seemingly undecided whether she should draw it back or leave it be. Then she let it drop down to his chest, before brushing past his arm.

The movement dislodged something from his hand. Neena and Yancy saw the little plastic card drop to the floor at the same time and both knelt to look at it. It was Neena that picked it up, turning it over in one hand. When she looked at the functional side her face seemed to freeze, hardening into a pale, stony neutrality.

Neena stood and waved off the mutants bearing her family before pushing past them to re-enter the house. She stopped in the room, which still stank of their unique decay, and looked around the floor until her eye settled on one of the packs of shells. Neena quickly scooped the little boxes into her pocket.

"Neena? What's going on?" Yancy touched Neena's arm. She shrugged off his hand, intent on the gun in her grip. She seemed to be focussing all of her rage on it, as if she could imbue the mechanism itself with her anger. "Neena?"

"You said your brother probably just didn't know his way around our sewers, right?"

"Well... well, yeah, his universe has to be different to ours, they don't have that big underground lab for one. That's how these things work, I think."

"So he'd have no reason to try and stop me getting here?"

Yancy frowned. He didn't like where this was going. "No. Why would he?"

"You tell me." Neena held up the card, face down, and passed it to Yancy. He backed away from Neena as he turned it over, and didn't notice her silent retreat from the room. There was a face staring out of the card, bright red hair brushed back into a spike and a friendly, slightly gormless smile underneath it.

"Why would Phil's I.D be..."

He looked up. She was gone. Yancy stared about himself as he gathered his wits, trying to work out when she'd left. He charged out onto the street to try and spot her but she was already out of site. None of the mutants knew where she'd gone or, if they did, they weren't telling.

"Nee... Leela! Come back!" He looked up and down the short street in the vain hope that she'd come back again or appear out of some side-street. "Dammit."

He returned to the house, the ID card clutched in his hand, grinning morbidly at him. For a few moments he just stared at it, until curiosity set in and the memory of Raoul's earlier remarks came back to him. Had she been here? She kept acting like she had, but that didn't make any more sense than the idea Phil had been.

Yancy's eyes roved over the photographs and mementos plastered across the wall, framed in cabinets and on table tops. All of Leela's life was here laid out in stark monochrome. He wandered over the snatched fragments of her existence, looking for any hint of why she might have suddenly snapped, but there was nothing. Not a damn thing.

Yancy gave up and stared at his feet. Then he frowned, spying a cigarette butt on the floor by the wall, discarded there for some time if he was any judge. He picked it up between finger and thumb and held it up to the dank light of the window. The pattern of the slender gold trim around the filter looked familiar.

Outside again, and Vyolet was nowhere to be seen. Yancy strolled along the street to the cowering crowd of mutants at the far end, hold his hands out in case they thought he was going to shoot them or something. He had no idea if it helped them, but it made _him_ feel better if nothing else.

The mutants formed a solid, if somewhat sloppy wall across the street. They stared at him, the outsider, with mingling fear and curiosity. Yancy stopped a few strides short of them and looked amongst the crowd for any sign of Neena or Vyolet. He saw one very fast in the form of a nervous cloud of smoke rising two or three rows back.

"Vyolet? I know you're there, I need to ask you something."

The crowd murmured its surprise that any surface dweller would talk to them, let alone know the name of one of their number. It parted, like an undermined bank of mud falling apart, laving a free path for Yancy to walk toward Vyolet. She sucked on her cigarette, blowing smoke out of her gills as fast as it went into her mouth, until the little white stick was reduced to a short tuft of ash.

"What do you want," she said, tossing the butt away and retrieving another in a single practised motion. Yancy held out the cigarette butt and the ID card.

"How did these get here?"

Vyolet took the card and frowned at it. "I don't know, but I wouldn't mind stumbling across him in a dark tunnel. _Meow_."

"You haven't see him down here?"

Vyolet shook her head and handed the card back. She smiled a little sadly. "I haven't. I'd know if I had. Oh, but your friend Leela, she was down here a few nights ago. Hung around the tunnels all day and..." she paused, eyes fixed on the cigarette butt. "Where did you find that?"

"In the house, where the bodies were."

"It's the same as mine." She took the butt and held it up next to her own still-lit cigarette. "I guess these belonged to your friend."

"She can't have been down here all day though. She was with me the last few days."

"Yeah, well, you surface dwellers all look the same to me, what do I know between two virtually identical one-eyed alien mutant wannabes?"

_It doesn't make any sense_, Yancy mused as the mutants began to disperse. He held up the cigarette. It was definitely old. Some mysterious liquid had soaked into it and dried out again which meant at least a day or two lying on the floor. He glanced around the subdued crowd and then back at the building where Leela's parents had lived. There wasn't much else he could do here. Pocketing the detritus, he set off back along the tunnels, hoping his memory would get him back to the surface.

* * *

_Tunnels, it was always the tunnels and the creatures chasing after her, the monsters of her past, pursuing and taunting her and drawing her onward and pushing her forward until legs ached and heart pounded and the anger, the bitter anger, the murderers and the keepers of secrets..._

* * *

Leela stalked through the darkness, one hand stretched out ahead to ward off the shadows, the other, gripping the gun tight and firm, dangling by her side, almost unused. Water and shit splashed under her feet the cloying stink burned at the back of her nose, reminding her of the pathetic wastrel scum who'd stolen her parents from her. Oh they'd pay, they'd all pay, just as soon as she'd dealt with the one they'd brought in to do it.

How could she have trusted him? The... the liar, the one who'd set it all in motion, cajoling and taunting her with the secrets that should never have been known before taking it all away again. Her life was over, that was certain. She knew what she was, what would happen to her now and that hell was almost too much to bear. To never see the sun again... but before she went she'd make sure he never saw it again either.

A junction up ahead was a convenient spot to rest her tired legs for a second. Just for a second. She leaned against the slime-covered wall and sighed. For a moment the heat of her anger subsided, letting her mind wander to questioning why this would have happened, but then she lifted up the pistol and any rational thought was banished as another bout of anger welled up inside her, fuelled by the sight of the weapon that had destroyed her life; the tool of vengeance.

Leela turned the gun from side to side. It was crude, ancient, but in perfect condition even so. Compared to the precise, clinical weaponry of her age it was brutal and inefficient but, strangely elegant in its simplicity. Point and click. The ultimate in user friendly interfaces.

Footsteps echoed briefly in the tunnels behind her, carried from god knew where but sounding close. Leela spun, heart pounding and stared back along her path. "Who's there?"

The footsteps, if that's what they were, stopped. Leela had the impression of a, a _something_ standing at the far end of the tunnel though she couldn't see anything, or hear. She stepped out into the centre of the tunnel and aimed along it, staring down the sights at the blackness that seemed to be just a shade darker than the rest. They lined up perfectly under her vision, almost as if it were designed for someone with just one eye.

"I have a gun!"

Silence. Leela's finger tightened around the trigger, squeezing it a fraction until the hammer began to lift and the ratchets underneath began to rotate the cylinder. She stopped, staring at the mechanism, fascinated by its oily, sinuous shape and movement, and then increased the pressure, tightening her grip.

The sound the gun made in the enclosed tunnels was deafening. A thunderous roar and a bright flash of cerise light accompanied by a cloud of acrid, bitter smoke that seemed to crawl into her eyes and throat and lungs, maddening and energising all at once. Leela gasped, choked and gasped again in a bizarre parody of laughter that almost mirrored how she felt. Her whole arm tingled from the recoil of the gun. Her hand was almost completely numb. She giggled, widening her eye as she squeezed the trigger again and sent another shot cascading down the tunnel.

Leela released her finger from the trigger and held the gun up to her face. She could feel a hint of warmth from the barrel radiating against her skin. She inhaled the smoke still trailing from the gun and smiled, a lazy, sensuous sort of smile.

Licking it would have been weird. She'd been tempted for a moment, though. Giggling again, Leela let forth a few more shots until the hammer clicked against an empty chamber. She frowned and flipped out the cylinder, which automatically ejected the six spent cartridges to ring against the floor like tiny brass bells.

"Easy," she muttered, fishing spare charges from her pocket. "Like a battery, only more fun..."

Leela cast one final glance at the tunnel. If anything had been following her it was gone for sure, now. Gun loaded, she resumed her hike down the tunnels, whistling a happy song to herself. She wasn't sure where it came from or what it was about, just that it felt so _right_.

* * *

Yancy cowered behind an outlet pipe from Neena's gunfire as it zipped down the tunnel, the bullets tearing past his hiding spot and thumping into the ancient brickwork of the far end junction wall. He heard her laughter as the report of the last shot echoed away in the maze of the sewers and wished, prayed he never had to hear it again. The madness behind it was terrifying. Yancy risked peering out once he heard the oily _snick_ of the weapon being reloaded and saw Neena examining the gun with the sort of loving gaze normally reserved for a child.

_She's snapped_, he thought sadly. _And it's all my fault..._

He cowered back again, trying to work up the courage to confront her before she did something stupid, but then she was away again. She set off up the tunnel, whistling a song he'd never heard before, splashing her way through the muck of the sewers in a way that seemed inappropriately happy.

Yancy leaned forward to pull himself upright. A movement caught his eye then, a little closer to his pipes, but on the far side of the tunnel. A shadow detached from an alcove in the far wall and stepped out into the dim light emanating from the downflow pipes and grates. There was no mistaking the shape of her ponytail, even in the eternal twilight of the tunnels. It was Leela.

A matched flared to life, illuminating her face for just a brief moment as she lit a cigarette. She looked around, examining the tunnel in the flickering wan light of the flame before tossing it into the muck, where it hissed into darkness again. For a moment her eye rested directly on Yancy's hiding spot and paused. He froze, unsure of whether he'd been spotted until the lazy gaze continued back, along the path they'd taken, and then around to follow the distant Neena as she disappeared into the deeper darkness of another junction.

Leela took a final drag from her cigarette and tossed it aside. She turned to follow Neena up the tunnel. Yancy counted to ten in his head and stepped out. He scampered across to the discarded cigarette and pulled it from the muck. It was identical to the one in his pocket; the same little golden band around the filter with its familiar, rope-curled pattern.

Yancy stared up at the tunnel roof, as if he could suddenly get a view of the stars. The last time he'd seen Leela she was heading off into space. How had she got here?

He had no idea what was going on.


	32. Chapter 32

Fry sat in his accustomed spot on the bridge with his back firmly set against the pacing, arguing figures behind him as he tried to think his way through what was going on. So far he'd drawn a frustrating blank. On the one hand, his brother said Leela wanted to leave him behind. On the other, Leela insisted she didn't. And then she'd gone crazy and punched him in the face.

Amy was... he glanced over at the intern and half-smiled at the sight of her but confusion was all he felt in that direction right now.

It was all just so frustrating. He had even less idea of what was going on than usual and now, all they could talk about was getting home as fat as possible for some reason that was never really made clear, though it had something to do with Neena. And Leela had been shouting something about tunnels when she'd hit him. He just couldn't see the pattern though.

He looked up at the forward windows. Earth was growing there, a bright blue disc about the size of his thumb. He could see the moon somewhere off to the left, about as big, but cut by a crescent of darkness. Normally the sight cheered him after a long delivery, the thought of returning home, resting up and settling down for a long evening in front of the television but, this wasn't home. Not really. It looked like home and felt like home, and had a lot of very nice bits to it that might make it seem better than home, but it wasn't home. There was still the nagging thought of that grave somewhere with his own bones and bits lying in it, buried under a thousand years of earth. The mere thought of it made him feel cold and dry inside, like he was almost there himself.

A shadow fell across him. Amy, sidling up to his side, her face that same placid openness he'd never been able to resist the last time around. "Hey. What's up?"

"Oh... I was just thinking." Fry leaned back in his chair, his mind filtering out the near-constant warble of Leela and Vek's conversation. They'd managed to spend the last hour arguing about who was the better pilot, without resolution.

"I've been thinking, too. Leela was talking to me before." She sat herself down on the console, legs splayed just enough to send his hormones bouncing. "She was acting like she'd not sent that message. It's weird."

"I know, she told me she'd never leave me behind..." Fry sighed and shook his head. "I don't get it."

"Yancy wouldn't lie about something like this," Amy replied. She glanced over her shoulder at the expanding disc of earth. "We'll be able to find out soon anyhow. You wanna hang out some more when we get back?"

"Sure. We could go see a movie." Fry shuddered as an immense cold drew over his body. "Did someone turn the heating off?"

The quaver of his voice was enough to silence the arguing pair behind him. Leela and Veklerov relaxed from their desperate fight to force each other from the pilot's seat and slowly righted themselves. Leela moved forward, risking a glance at Amy, as if seeking approval.

"What makes you say that?"

"I'm freezing. Ow!" Fry felt his chest cramp up, as if a frozen hand had suddenly gripped his heart. He gasped for breath, wrapping his arms around his body as he tried to fight off the cold.

"Fry? What's the matter?" Warm hands touched his skin. His teeth started chattering as if his body had suddenly realised how cold he was. "Ahh, you're freezing! Amy, get an emergency blanket. Vek, you... turn up the heat or something."

She wrapped her arms around Fry, who felt like he'd just been plunged into a furnace, her skin was so hot. She hissed at the touch of him and tried to push her body closer. He heard footsteps thumping across the deck but they sounded slow and distance and everything looked a long, long way away, like it was at the end of a tunnel, filled with light.

* * *

_Sense left. He found himself in a darkness that was something other than the mere absence of light, and then in a light that was not light at all, because there was no darkness. He remembered his family, and then found himself amongst them. But, they were confused, because he was already there..._

* * *

Fry woke in the pits of hell, bound and covered by heat and humidity and sweaty bodies writhing in torment. He lashed out, trying to claw his way free of the anguish clutching at his heart and suddenly broke through the-

"Ow! Dammit, Fry, what the hell are you doing?"

Leela's voice froze Fry's mind for a brief moment, long enough to realise that he wasn't in hell. Though, Veklerov's cabin didn't seem much less of a torment. He looked to one side and saw Leela staring at him with pained curiosity. That explained two of the arms wrapped around him.

"Did I just sleep through something awesome again?"

"_Wuzzle,_" Amy mumbled, nuzzling against his back. Leela rolled her eye and detached herself from the small pile. She brushed back a stray lock of hair clinging to her brow.

"Jeeze, it's hot..." Fry picked at the thermal blanket half-wrapped around them. The air was still muggy and warm. "Leela? What's going on?"

"We were saving your life."

"Oh. Really?"

"You had some sort of weird thermal crash. It's like all the heat leached out of your body." She rolled her enormous eye, making her distaste obvious. "We had to keep you warm somehow. This was Amy's idea."

"I felt like I was dying."

Leela nodded, making he way over to the cabin's environmental control. The tension in her body made it obvious how she felt about being there, which gave Fry an odd, jittery thrill. Was it because of him or because of Vek?

"You looked like you were dying as well," she said quietly. Her voice firmed up as she turned back to look at him, disapproval pulling the corners of her mouth down just slightly. "We had to keep your body temperature up somehow..."

He felt Amy's hand crawling across his chest just as Leela turned back to look at him.

"It's nice to know my friends wanted me to go out happy."

"You can stop that fantasy right there, mister," Leela replied, folding her arms. "_I_ wanted to put you in between the dark matter reactors."

Fry grimaced and stuck out his tongue, which was a really childish thing to do, but he couldn't think of anything better to say. He glanced out of the tiny porthole and was surprised to see the clear blue of an atmosphere beyond. They were skimming over the cloud-tops.

"I can't help it! I just woke up with two hot, sweaty women wrapped around me, is it my fault if I get a little, y'know, excited?"

"You men, you're all the same," Leela replied, her eyebrow arching like a sinuous _S_. But, for all that, she was smiling just a little. "I'm glad you're still around, Fry."

"You and me both..." Fry carefully unwrapped Amy from around his waist and shuffled out of the bed. His clothes were soaked with sweat. Not all of it was his own. "Man. I stink."

"We all do," Amy mumbled from under the blanket. She poked her head out, bleary-eyed and looking exhausted from the heat.

Leela nodded. "The shower's in the same place, at least. Try not to die again."

"I dunno, if it means beautiful women dog-piling me... all right, all right, I'm going," he yelped, avoiding the well-aimed boot Leela threw at him. Fry ducked out of the door and skittered around the corner as fast as frightened rat.

Amy rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Typical man."

"Yeah, well, they all fantasise about it, but put them in a bed with two women and they'd probably just freeze up."

"Maybe I should get Yancy in and turn the tables on him," Amy replied, stroking her chin with a thoughtful expression. She shuffled across the bed and sat next to Leela, half-mimicking her pose. "See how he likes it."

"Interesting idea, but... nah, I've never really seen the appeal."

Leela glanced sideways at the intern, wondering if she should ask the obvious next question, though it wasn't as if she really wanted to know the answer. She settled for staring at the wall, trying to hid her glum expression behind a neutral glare. It didn't work.

"Leela, I'm sorry about what I said before. We thought you were going to leave Phil here."

"Yeah, well, I wouldn't."

"You can always stay too, you know..."

Leela nodded slowly, pondering the thought. But no. "I can't. I want to go home. Besides, there's Neena here already."

"I think I understand," Amy said, nodding slowly. "It'd be like putting two queen bees in the same hive."

"Oh lord, don't mention bees. Especially not big killer space bees." She shuddered involuntarily and tried to put the memory out of her head, but it wouldn't quite go away. Yet another time when she'd had her life saved by Fry. "Oh, that damn kid..."

She felt Amy wrap a slightly sticky arm around her shoulders, the other stroking her arm. Leela ignored her mild disgust at the feeling, appreciating the contact, even if it was slimy and cold. They sat like that for a minute, rocking back and forth as the ship's gravity generator tried to compensate for their turbulent atmospheric flight.

"Leela? Can I ask you something?"

"I guess."

Amy brought her hands back to her lap, where she twisted her fingers around the hem of her pants. "Phil kept saying he wanted to make up for something he did to his... to your version of me."

"Oh." Leela looked into Amy's eyes, unsure of what to say. It would be so easy to use this as a way to get Fry back. All she would have to do is tell her how much of a scumbag he'd had been in their last relationship. She shook her head and sighed at the injustice of a the world.

"Do you know what it was?"

Leela nodded slightly, displacement activity so she could work up her courage."It was... it was something I did, not him," she said, her voice quiet as the half-truths unfolded in her mind. It was so easy once you got started. "I broke up one of your dates because I thought you were going to end up giving each other hell. He was very attached to you at the time."

"Right..." Amy smiled weakly, though the disquieted anger behind her fragile expression was obvious, her eyes filled with accusation as her suspicions over Leela were so blatantly confirmed. "Thanks for being honest, Leela. I appreciate it."

"Honesty is a rare commodity these days," Leela replied, sick to her stomach. It was as if she was committing herself to an irreversible path by the creative recounting of those events, closing off more doors until she was left with just one, lonely journey. She stood up, shivering as she realised how chilly the room had become. "Shower time."

* * *

Farnsworth heard the ship crunching to the ground outside the lab. A moment later he heard the quiet hiss of his secret elevator as it disappeared into the ground, leaving an annoying hole where he had hoped to tread on his way to top up his Buggalo cheese sample jar. The experiment he had originally intended to run with ordinary nuclear isotopes had proven surprisingly easy to adapt to the cheese, which had to be emitting _some_ sort of radiation. But, now he was being prevented from continuing by that dratted hole. He had a toaster waiting to be tested and what seemed to be a very promising reaction from the kettle to observe. It was all very frustrating.

The hole in front of him began to blow out a gentle breeze as the elevator ascended from the basement levels. It was uncanny how it had done that all by itself. He would have to check the control mechanism. It wouldn't do to have one of his employees stumble into it. They'd make such a mess when they got to the bottom. Still, that was what the janitor was for.

Farnsworth was just trying to remember why he felt he should be doing something about the janitor when the elevator arrived, bearing on of the Leelas, the prettier one with the nicer hair. He tilted his head to one side as he tired to determine why her face looked so different. She seemed to be angry, shouting something that he didn't bother listening to because it was so loud and silly and not worth wasting his time with. Frankly, the odd weapon she was waving at him seemed to be so much more fascinating. Yes. And here he was without his tranquilliser gun.

Something in the way she was speaking gave him a pause. He frowned, more than usual, and held up his hand to silence her. It seemed to work. "What? I can't understand your bizarre alien language any more."

"Alien...? you stupid old man, I'm speaking English! Where the hell is Philip?"

"Who?"

"The one from the other universe!" She pushed the gun into his face, which Farnsworth assumed was meant to be threatening but which merely gave him a better chance to examine the mechanism up close. He sniffed at the bitter fumes leaking from the weapon's hollow emitter.

"Interesting..." Farnsworth poked the side of the gun, twisting a mobile cylinder in its housing; it moved with a gentle clicking of a ratchet mechanism. "The entire thing seems to be mechanical. Where did you find such an antique?"

"Oh forget it." She pushed him aside and stomped to the back wall of the lab, where she stared across his experiments and into the hangar at the ship. "He's on the ship, isn't he. Well that's good. That means I can fix a few things..."

Farnsworth peered across the hangar at the ship as Neena sighted her weapon on the gangway. He supposed he should do something about it, but the entire course of events seemed so interesting that he preferred to let it play out. The weapon was one he had only ever seen in history books, an old, violently noisy sort of affair that appealed to the part of him that liked explosions. He picked up his scanometer and surreptitiously waved it at Neena's back. The device registered an odd anomaly in addition to its display of the weapon's vital statistics, declaring it had found _NEW DATA_ in large bold letters, before bringing up a reference note to his earlier, more detailed scans of the pair.

"Oh my. You know, my dear, I-"

"Shut up!"

Farnsworth shrugged and continued scanning, his eyes locked on the weapon. He could sort out the quantum reality stuff later, this was going to be much more entertaining, with all the potential explosions and fire and smoke and things, oh my yes. A pair of legs appeared on the gangway, clad in pink. Amy? What was she doing wearing pink? Then someone else. Ah yes, the idiot.

"Time to leave, Philip," Neena muttered, thumbing back the hammer.

* * *

Leela settled back into her hiding spot above the hangar, deep in the shadow of some machinery. Her jaunt back into the sewers had been risky but worthwhile, just to see another version of herself realising the universal truth, the one constant in all their lives.

Something had been a little different about this one, though. She couldn't place it. In the sewers was the first time she'd seen her in the flesh, however dark it had been. She seemed... connected, somehow. It was almost like... the past...

Leela shook her head to dislodge the memory. She shifted forward on the gantry and peered down at the ship. If she'd timed it right her alter self would be entering the lab about now, from the massive underground city this universe contained. Leela tried to imagine what life would be like if she'd lived in something like that. Perhaps with her parents. Only... no, no that wouldn't do at all.

There was a sound, a quiet clank as someone stepped onto the gantry. _Who..._ she whirled and found herself face to face with the idiot's brother. He stared at her, confused but stubbornly defiant. It seemed to be a family trait.

"Well, hello there..." She turned on her toes to get a better look at him.

"How did you get up here?"

"Same way you did, the door round the back of this place." She leaned on the rail, pulled out a cigarette and tucked it into her mouth. "You'd think that idiot professor would be smart enough to lock it in at least one universe..."

"So which Leela are you?"

"The sane one," Leela muttered, grabbing the butt of her pistol. She paused. He didn't seem to be reacting the right way. Not confused, not scared, more like resigned. Hopeless. "You _are_ his brother, right?"

"I just want to know what's going on."

"I'll take that as a yes." Leela shrugged, relaxing her hand, seeing how unlikely it was he'd attack her. "There's only one of _me_. You know why I'm here?"

"No..." his eye flicked to the pistol. "You did it, didn't you."

"Smarter _and_ more handsome," Leela replied. She sidled toward the brother and traced her hand up his chest. "Why couldn't I have had you in my universe? I bet I wouldn't have had to kill you even a tiny little bit..."

He glanced down at the hangar, fear entering his eyes for the first time. "What's going on?"

"Huh, I guess you're not as clever as I thought. I'm here to see your brother die." She pulled her gun before he could react and pressed it against his chin. "And you're not going to do a thing about it, are you."

Leela gripped his shirt collar so tight it was almost choking him. He blinked several times, trying to clear his watering eyes, his eyes never wavering from her face as he tried to stare her down. She smiled and thumbed back the hammer. If Yancy had an answer to her question, it was lost behind the crash of gunfire echoing around the vast hangar.


	33. Chapter 33

"Flurb, I can't believe they're still arguing," Amy groused as she descended the gangway steps to the hangar floor. Fry just grunted as he followed her down. Something was digging at his gut, like he couldn't quite settle down. Like Amy had suddenly gotten a little more relaxed for some reason, which he couldn't understand. And like she was more hostile toward Leela and friendlier at the same time.

"I guess it's-"

There was a crack, followed by another, and a loud _zip_ of a bullet tearing the air apart over their heads. Fry gibbered and ducked with his arms wrapped over his head. Another crack. Amy screeched and spun to one side as if someone had tugged at her shoulder. She fell to the floor, her face more surprised than anything else, then screamed again in sheer terror as the pain finally overwhelmed her shock.

"Amy!"

"_Wa chi ao!_" Her hand pressed against her shoulder and came away bloody. "I'm bleeding!"

Fry grabbed Amy's shirt and dragged her behind the landing gear, ignoring Leela's angry yelling and Veklerov's surprisingly high-pitched anguish as they leapt from the gangway. Leela landed right behind him and grabbed Amy's uninjured arm, speeding up their escape.

"Leela, it's-"

"I know, dammit!" She tugged Amy's top apart, revealing a ragged wound across the top of her shoulder. Leela pulled off her shirt, ignoring Veklerov's highly ill-timed leer, and quickly tore a strip off. "Hold her, here."

She grabbed Fry's hand and pressed it against Amy's neck, just above the wound. He pressed his fingers against the wound, grimacing at Amy's pained response. She grabbed his arm with her free hand.

"Phil, it hurts!"

"Oh don't start," Leela growled as she passed her improvised bandage under Amy's arm. "I swear, if you come out with the 'I'm going to die' crap I'll shoot myself."

Amy screeched again as Leela pulled the bandage tight. She pressed a larger pad of her shirt against Amy's shoulder and continued binding until the wound was completely covered, though not absolutely sealed. Then she sat back and pulled her knees up to her chest, and just stared into the distance. Fry pulled off his jacket and laid it under Amy's head because he didn't know what else to do, and because it seemed like it might help. He knelt beside her, though his attention was focused on Leela.

"_Is_ she going to die?" His voice was shaking, but there wasn't anything he could do about that. Leela glanced back at him and shook her head.

"No. But she needs to get to a hospital."

"You're damn right I- oohh... _ai yah tien ah_!" Amy flopped back against Fry's jacket, whimpering against the pain in her shoulder.

Leela rolled her eye. "It's a flesh wound. Stay still and it won't hurt so much," she said, touching Fry's arm. He looked at her automatically, for the re-assurance her presence had always given him.

"How did she find us?"

"It's not _her_. It's Neena."

"What?" Fry and Veklerov's voices were raised in unison. They stared at each other.

"Sirochka, shooting at us? Impossible, she doesn't have the..." Vek's rant and bravado faded under Leela's angry glare. She dismissed him with a contemptuous snort. "All right, I suppose she might have a _few_ reasons. Where is she?"

"She's at the back of the lab with the Professor. I think he has his scanners out again."

"The decrepit fossil is probably too busy enjoying the show to realise he's in any danger," Veklerov grumbled. He leaned past his side of the gangway to peer at the lab, to be met by the sound of another shot being fired. A bullet whined off the concrete by his leg. "Oof, what the hell kind of a _canon_ is that?"

"Three-fifty-seven Colt Python two, satin silver finish, nine inch barrel, composite... carbon..." Leela blinked, her mouth hanging open around the last syllable, her eye staring into the distance. She turned to Fry just as he turned to look at her.

"How do you know all that?"

"I have no idea..." she stared at her hands, sticky with the remnant of Amy's blood, then up at the ship, though it seemed as if she was staring through it at something much further away. "It was just there. In my head."

She shook herself, suddenly clenching both fists as she turned to stare at Fry. "She's trying to kill you."

"No kidding. I think I noticed that, Leela." He reached out to touch Amy's face, tracing a finger across her pale cheek, beaded with sweat as she tried to hide her pain. She smiled at him. "What did I do to deserve this?"

Leela didn't answer. She was staring up at the ship again, her eye narrowed in thought. Fry risked a glance around the landing gear, just enough to see Neena lurking at the back of the lab with her shoulders hunched and tense. She spotted him and raised her gun but he managed to duck away before she could take aim. It didn't stop her firing. The bullet smacked into the landing gear with a sound like an egg cracking.

"I'm getting a really weird déjà vu here," he muttered, stroking Amy's hair again. Leela shivered, rubbing her arms as the cool air of the hanger blew against her bare back. Normally he might have offered her his coat by now.

"Well I'm not going to sit here until she gets bored enough to come over and kill us all," Veklerov grunted. He stood up, holding his hand out past the landing gear. "Sirochka? Lets talk, _da?_"

Another shot whined through the air, barely missing the tips of his fingers. Veklerov stumbled back, grabbing his fingers in reflex as the shockwave of the passing bullet shattered their tips. His foot slammed against Amy's shoulder and he tripped over awkwardly, sprawling on the floor, dragging Fry along with him.

It happened so fast that Fry was unable to react before he found himself face down on the concrete, pinned down by the weight of a swearing Russian and disturbingly vulnerable. Amy was streaming out an almost unbroken string of Martian invective to match Veklerov's, the combined words mixing in odd ways in Fry's ears.

He turned his head, realising he was in full view of Neena. She stared at him from the back of the lab, her gun pointed almost right at his face. Neena's face seemed to be twitching almost constantly, every tiny tick visible on her pale skin as she stared at him. All Fry could do was blink and try to look non-threatening – not hard given his predicament.

Finally, perhaps sensing his vulnerable state, Veklerov rolled off Fry and hustled back under the landing gear. Fry lay still. Waiting, watching Neena's face.

"Fry, what are you doing?"

Leela's voice. Close by, so it had to be his Leela. She was staring at him, inching her arm toward his pants. Fry shrugged, but couldn't quite put words to the thoughts moving through his mind. If he'd known better he might have called it kismet, the idea that he couldn't fight fate, but all he could really think was that he couldn't be bothered trying any more. The floor felt dreadfully cold.

A bullet dug into the hangar floor behind Fry's head. He sat up, his heart suddenly pounding as the reality of the situation returned to him; at the same time, Leela was leaping out in front of him with her arms held up, yelling at herself to stop. It seemed to work.

She landed on the floor with a grunt, the concrete scraping her arm and side. Fry could see Neena's surprise – perhaps at the sight of Leela without her top, leaping about the hangar. Perhaps at the thought she'd actually defend Fry. Neena lowered her gun and tilted her head to one side before taking a cautious step toward them.

Leela pushed herself upright, wincing at the sting of her grazed shoulder. She stared at Neena, defying her to shoot again.

"Leela, get out of the way."

"No." Leela moved further out from the landing gear, keeping her body between Fry and the gun. She wrapped her arms around her body against he chilly air in the hangar and shivered, though perhaps not entirely due to the cold. "Why are you doing this? Where did you get that gun?"

Neena didn't answer. She stared blankly at the pistol in her hand, turning it back and forth a few times. Then she looked up, determination returning to her face.

"Ask your friend. Yeah," she said, sneering, every muscle in her body tightening. "Ask _Philip_ where it came from."

"What are you-"

"_Ask him, dammit!_"

Neena stumbled from the lab, ignoring Farnsworth's anguished cry as she left his finely calibrated scanning fields in disarray. She held the gun out, her hand weaving from side to side as she staggered across the concrete, her skin pale and taut, with the first signs of a bruise-dark ring forming under her eye. Leela stood up as she approached and stepped forward, grabbing the gun before she could bring it to bear on Fry.

Veklerov, sensing his opportunity, scrabbled to his feet and up the gangway to safety. The airlock door slammed shut and hissed its seal a moment later.

"Get out of my way!"

"No."

Neena stared at Leela as if betrayed, her eye bloodshot and red-rimmed. Her hand went limp as Leela pulled the pistol from her grip before tossing away across the floor. The smell of the sewers was all over her; even from Fry's position it was obvious, stinking up the place with a backwash of sulphur and cloying, bitter damp air. He closed his eyes and sighed. Leela turned her suspicious eye toward Fry.

"You told her?"

"I was just trying to help..." Fry looked up at Leela again, trying not to plead. "She wanted me to tell her how to find them, so I did."

"Fry, I was..." she paused, frowning. "No, that... that's not right, if she'd met them she'd be-"

"He lied! He never wanted me to find them!" Neena struggled out of Leela's grasp and lurched toward Fry, reaching out to grab him. She was yanked back by Leela's hand on her coat. "He never wanted me to see the truth!"

"Neena, you're not making any sense. What truth?"

"He killed them!" Neena collapsed to her knees, clawing at Leela's arms. She began to wail. "_He killed them!_"

* * *

Yancy felt this new dark Leela tense as soon as Neena emerged from the lab.

"Brown," she muttered, confusion entering her voice. "Brown hair. Neena... _kshaami chaahti hu ba hen_..."

The moment passed. The gun jammed tighter against Yancy's throat, almost choking him, but her eye was fixed on the scene playing out below. "No. No! She can't... kill them you stupid-"

She pushed Yancy away. A frustrated yell escaped her lips and she turned away from him. "Want something right, you gotta do it yourself," she growled, caressing the gun in her hands before aiming it down at the hangar floor. It took a moment for Yancy to realise what she meant until he spied Phil sitting on the floor, quite plainly visible beneath the ship. Amy was lying next to him, her shirt soaked deep crimson.

A nervous rage overwhelmed Yancy as the reality of the situation sank in; a sort of anguished protectiveness he'd never experienced toward his brother before, more powerful than he really appreciated. It dragged his foot forward, and then the other and before Yancy could think he was running back at this new dark Leela, hands outstretched toward her. A belligerent yell escaped his lips. He grabbed her arms just as her finger squeezed the trigger, throwing her aim off. The bullet thudded into the floor just past Amy's head.

"What the hell!" Leela, or whatever she was, turned and punched Yancy in the gut then whacked him across the side of his head with the butt of her pistol. "You idiot! You're as bad as he was, always getting in my way!"

Yancy choked on bile and spat, unable to respond, or to resist when this Leela grabbed his jacket and pulled him upright. Somehow he managed to duck the fist aimed at his face. Somehow. Without thought his hands swung up, one grabbing her hair, the other landing against her half-open eye with a disgusting squelch.

She screamed. Yancy had never heard Leela scream before. It terrified him, that anything could be so heart-rending. But then she shouted the most vile profanity he'd ever heard as she lost her footing. Leela shouted out, angry and terrified. Her hand locked around Yancy's collar and he followed her over the rail.

* * *

A shot rang out and they froze as white-hot chips of concrete flew into the air behind Amy's head. She wailed pitifully and tried to grab at the fresh cut the debris tore across the side of her face.

Later Fry would remember two things happening. First, the simultaneous, shrill scream of both Leelas as they both reacted to some invisible force against their eye. Second, the sound of his brother shouting. He looked up at the gantry in time to see yet another Leela, dressed all in black, dragging Yancy from an overhead walkway as they both fell to the floor. They landed in an oversized equipment locker with a muffled crash.

"Yancy..."

Ignoring everything, Fry leaped toward the locker, his gait awkward from fear and cramped legs as he lurched to his feet.

He reached he locker after a seconds that seemed like an eternity, breathing far harder than the moment of exertion would have suggested. Fry flung back the lid that had collapsed down on the locker and thrust his arms inside.

"Yancy!"

Yancy lay sprawled on top of the other Leela, the one he'd mentally nicknamed Evila; both lay on the mess of pressure suits, work overalls and the rags and ruins of various hazardous materials suits that the Professor evidently hadn't found time to get rid of. He groaned.

"No, Yancy, don't move," Fry said, pressing his hands down on his brother's back. Yancy grunted and hissed a pained breath through his teeth, but ignored Fry's insistent pressure and pushed himself to his hands and knees.

"That better be the last of them," he muttered, staring at the unconscious woman beneath him. Her lips parted as she took a deep breath, though her eye remained resolutely closed. "I think she's out cold."

"What happened?"

Fry helped Yancy pull himself from the locker, where he crumpled to the floor and pawed weakly at Fry's arm. "I just fell seventy feet."

"Yeah, but..." Fry stared at the ParaLeela laid out in the bottom of the locker. She was still breathing, but barely. It sounded almost as if she was singing. He looked over his shoulder at Leela and Neena, both still rubbing moisture from their eyes and blinking as if they'd each got an eyeful of grit. He waved his hand at the woman; Yancy shrugged.

"I followed her up from the sewers," he said, backing away from the locker. Yancy looked tired, as if the weight of the world were finally catching up to him. "She was following Neena."

"She wants to kill me. She's following me and trying to shoot me. I don't get it."

"It's not just you." Yancy leaned closer to Fry as they moved back toward the ship, lowering his voice. "We-"

The sound of a gun being cocked shocked them both into silence. They looked down at the unconscious ParaLeela, expecting to see her suddenly awake. She was still out. Then Amy gave a feeble moan, calling out Fry's name in a way that tore at his heart. He'd promised Yancy he wouldn't let her get hurt.

Fry slowly turned to look at the ship. Amy was still on the floor, staring fearfully up, though her fevered gaze kept flicking toward Fry and Yancy. Behind her, Neena stood. Her arm was around Leela's neck, the other holding the pistol against Leela's temple. She shifted her stance, a reaction to Yancy as he took a step toward her. The gun shivered in her hands.

"Leela..."

"Yancy, don't come any closer." Her eye widened a fraction. "Just give me a clear shot."

"No. He didn't do it." Another step. Neena's hand shifted on the pistol's grip, her nerves increasing as he moved toward her.

"Of course he did it! He never wanted me to find them!" The gun waved away, swinging through the air, its narrow muzzle a dark, glaring malevolent eye. "He drew that map so I'd get lost and never find their bodies. So they'd be _recycled!_"

"That's not true," Fry yelled back at her. The gun suddenly seemed to focus on him, shivering again as if it were living thing. "Leela, tell her!"

"Shut up shut up _shut up!_ All of you!" She pressed her hand to the side of her head, oblivious to the gun for a moment, her eye squeezed tight shut. "He showed them up. They were liars! But he left the clues, you've got them Yancy," she said, opening her eye again. "You've got the clue!"

Yancy's hand tightened around something in his jacket pocket. He nodded. "I have it."

"That's the proof he was there!"

"Phil, have you got some ID on you?"

"Um, yeah, it's in my wallet."

"Can you show it to Neena?"

Very carefully, watching Neena for any reaction, Fry pulled his wallet from his pocket and flipped it open. He took out the little ID card they'd issued to him when he arrived and stared at it for a moment. "Wait, why am I doing this?"

Yancy didn't reply. He held Neena's gaze, reaching out to her with his free hand as he moved toward her. "You gave me this," he said, holding up the card from his pocket. It was identical to the one in Fry's hand, though a little more damaged from handling. Neena stared at it, then at the card in Fry's hand, her eye bouncing back and forth between the two amidst a ferocious bout of blinking. She frowned and licked her lips.

"No no, no that's a trick, it's a lie," she said, half-smiling as her mind raced over the possibilities. "It's a copy or, or..."

The gun wavered. Yancy slipped the card back into his pocket. He took another step toward Neena, so that his outstretched arm was almost close enough to touch her. "Leela..."

"Back off!"

He froze. They all froze, suddenly entranced by the quiet screech of the ship's cargo lift as it descended to the floor, bearing Veklerov and a collapsible stretcher from the medical bay. He took in the scene before him as the lift crunched against the hangar floor.

"Oh."

The distraction was enough for Leela. She drove her elbow into Neena's gut, pushing her off balance. Then she leaped and spun, aiming a swift kick at Neena's head but the other cyclops rallied faster than Leela could attack and ducked out of the way. In the tumult Neena backed onto the cargo lift, gun waving back and forth, an angry screech escaping her lips. She brought the gun to bear on Fry once more.

He was getting used to the sight now, the vicious anger in the eye, the empty blackness of the barrel. Something blurred in Fry's vision just as the gun went off. Something that yanked it out of the way, though he ducked from instinct, falling to his knees before he could really comprehend what had happened. It was only after he'd hit the ground that he realised who the blur had been

He looked up. Yancy was kneeling at Neena's feet, as if in supplication, hen hand gripped on her upper arm. The other was concealed between his body and Neena's, holding the gun and her arm against his abdomen. She stared at him, her face blank. The gun dropped from between them, smoke trailing from its muzzle. Yancy slipped a little further to the ground.

"Y... Yancy?"

Yancy let go of Neena's arms and carefully lowered himself to the ground, rolling onto his back. Neena stood over him with her hands pressed against her mouth.

"Oh, no," she whispered.

Fry knelt down beside his brother. His heart felt terribly cold, in a way completely different to the experience he'd had on the ship before. He could feel odd shivers in his back and neck. "Yan?"

"It's okay, Phil..."

"No it's not! Don't say stuff like that, I-"

"No, Phil, I mean _it's okay_. I think it missed the important bits." Yancy twisted, grunted, grabbing his side. He pulled his shirt up with a grimace and peered at the wound, a bright red crease diagonally down his side that just clipped across the top of his hip, weeping blood into his clothing at a fairly impressive rate. "God, that hurts..."

He looked up at Neena, his expression unreadable as hers. Neena seemed to have retreated into herself, into some private, terrible place. Her eye was locked on the floor just beyond Yancy and her hands were still pressed against her trembling mouth, knuckles almost glowing white from the tension in her fists.

Fry heard a sound behind him, from the locker, but when he turned to look there was nothing there. Something told him she would be gone, again. Long gone, hiding in another universe already no doubt. Leela seemed less accepting of it and made her way over to the locker. She peered inside, an oddly disappointed expression on her face as she fished out a slightly torn shirt to cover herself with. She turned to look at Fry, sorrow and a hint of anger clouding her features.

Fry turned away from her and looked down at Yancy. Then at Amy. She lay very still.


	34. Chapter 34

It was as if a weight had been lifted. To Leela it had felt as if some remotely familiar part of herself disappearing down a long and distant tunnel. It was diminishing, enervating, like being torn apart and made whole at the same time. If asked to put it into words she would have just shook her head. Not because she didn't want to, but because it was a sensation that no sentient being could ever truly comprehend.

Not that it had stopped the Professor from trying. She'd spent most of the last two days in his scanners, leaving her exhausted despite having done very little to deserve it. There hadn't been any more attacks since her 'episode' on the ship but that was apparently more due to luck than anything else. Or so said the Professor, sat behind his console with that permanent leer on his face. She'd given up objecting to it. Hitting him might have been satisfying but it wouldn't produce any results and, besides, she was just too tired.

"There, that should do it. I think."

Farnsworth flicked at the fringe of hair across his brow and smiled at Leela from behind a gigantic magnifying lens attached to his head. He held up her wrist computer and tapped it with the ever-present pen.

"That right there should give you a better idea of the conditions in each of the boxes, so you should avoid some of the worst nightmares."

"Will it get us home?"

"Oh, eventually, no doubt..." he took off the odd helmet-and-lens contraption and tossed it aside, ignoring the shatter of glass as it hit the floor. "I would have preferred longer to work on it but at least now you'll be able to actually tell if the universe you're entering is the same as one you've left. It should also be able to predict whether any particular universe is going to bring you closer to your own."

Leela took the device without speaking, hearing a probably unintentional accusation against the way they'd ended up here in the first place. It was her own treacherous mind making it, of course. She was the one who'd believed the scanners when it had declared their box to be the same one.

"You, eyeh, have everything you need?"

"I do. Thank you, Professor. I think I'll go hom- I think I'll head back to the apartment for now. I'm tired."

"Of course, of course... better to have rested before you leave, I expect."

He paused, seemingly unsure of what to say next, then seemed to give up. His gaze returned to the scanner screen. The reticence would have been unusual in her own Farnsworth but seemed strangely appropriate for this one who, it seemed, was very much Fry's descendent. Though smarter. And more prone to blowing things up, if that were possible.

"Good night, Professor," she said quietly. He looked up from his readouts, startled by her voice.

"Wha? Oh, yes, yes. Good night, Leela."

* * *

She took the tube back to the apartment. It was the strangest thing, coming back to that empty space with its blank walls and windowless room. She'd spent years of her life in there, alone, but now the thought of returning to it empty filled her with a dull but pervasive anguish. It was hard to remind herself that she'd always been technically alone there – only ever with herself.

She managed to survive there for nearly twenty minutes before giving up and stomping out of the door. The silence was that did it in the end. The close, empty box of space that locked her entirely inside and left no way out.

Outside, and Leela lingered in the tube station, trying to work out what she wanted to do. She could just head back to Planet Express and leave. God knew it would be the easiest thing to do. Just leave it all behind. But, she had to at least say goodbye. Leela closed her eye and whispered the name of the hospital they'd taken everyone to. It wasn't the Taco Belle Vue. Apparently it didn't exist in this universe.

The tube deposited Leela right outside the hospital's main entrance, proudly bearing the legend _Ambulans Iubare_ and the ever-present dog's head that seemed to adorn everything in this universe. She had to smile at that. The kid always seemed to land on his feet.

The hospital seemed grim, though, and more utilitarian than the Taco Belle Vue had been. Granted, it wasn't the only municipal hospital in the city but it was always the one they ended up in, for whatever reason. There was a peace there that couldn't be found here, with the staff bustling around corridors that were just a mite too narrow, pushing gurneys just an inch too short, between rooms that were never completely quiet.

The non-emergency wards were a little better, but not much. Private rooms, two beds to a room, a certain amount of peace and respect. It could have been worse. She paused outside the room holding Amy, then pushed her way through the door and stopped.

They were smiling, holding hands. She couldn't credit it, but... they were happy. Amy's smile faltered for a moment when she saw Leela but then she brightened again. "Hey."

"Hi." she closed the door. "I couldn't sleep, and I guess... I guess I wanted to say thanks."

"For what?"

Leela pulled up a chair and sat down, keeping the bed between herself and Fry for propriety's sake. His expression was opaque as granite, giving nothing away.

"For being you, I suppose." She looked at Fry. A thousand thoughts ran through her mind, all demanding to be spoken at once. She ignored them. Focus on the moment. "Are you going to have that scar removed?"

"I dunno, I kinda like it," Amy replied, running her hand along the pink stretch of skin across her shoulder. "If I keep it, I won't forget."

"I'm sorry it had to be like this," Leela said, her voice quiet and downcast. She took Amy's hand. "I hope Veklerov will be easier for you to deal with at least. I mean, after all this, he should give you guys a little respect, right?"

"Oh. You didn't hear? He quit yesterday." Amy shrugged and then winced, favouring her injured shoulder. "Too much excitement, he said."

"I can't say I'm sorry."

Leela glanced at Fry, still silent beyond the bed. His arms were folded across his chest, defensive and hunched. He refused to look at her.

"Hermes is looking for a new pilot," Amy said, breaking the silence, giving Leela a 'you know you want to' look. She smiled. Oh god, she'd actually forgiven her. Leela couldn't look at the Martian girl's face without feeling like an absolute hypocrite. She looked away, picking her own thumb as a good object to focus on.

"That's the other thing I came here for." Leela took a breath. Held it. "I wanted to say goodbye. To both of you."

"You're not staying?" The tremor in Fry's voice was heart-breaking. What the hell. It was his choice, right? Let him deal with it.

Right?

"I can't, Fry. You might be happy here but I won't be. I want to go home. I'm sorry." She stood up. At the door she paused again and turned to look at Fry. "We'll never see each other again. You know that, don't you?"

Fry just stared at her, frowning. Amy was frowning too now, though thoughtful, not angry. She nervously twisted her fingers together. Fry just shrugged.

"I guess so," he said, not really looking at her. Leela swallowed the caustic remark that welled up in her throat. She quietly shut the door and left them behind.

Neena's room was on the same floor, though further along, behind two stout doors and an equally stout orderly. She knew it probably wasn't any use visiting but she had to do it, just to put her own mind at ease.

The door was slightly open when she arrived, as if someone had carelessly pushed it closed and not checked. She leaned up against the crack of the door and peered inside, then pushed it open and stepped in.

Yancy looked up at her. He turned back to the bed without a word.

"Shouldn't you be in bed?"

"Yeah, I should. I got shot."

It almost sounded as if he was trying to convince himself of the fact. Leela had to remind herself that he was still thinking of Stupid Ages medicine, with wounds taking days and weeks for things to heal instead of mere hours. Sometimes she wondered if she didn't appreciate fully what life had given her.

Leela pulled a chair up and sat next to him, staring in silence at Neena's placid face. Her eye was open, but unfocused. She hadn't spoken since the shooting.

"I just..." Leela shook her head. It was impossible, like talking to a corpse. She turned a little more to Yancy. "I'm leaving," she said, as if that made it all right. Yancy was as unresponsive as his brother. Leela tried to work up her rage at that but it just wasn't there, almost like it was being sucked into some sort of void. She reached out to touch Neena's hand, ignoring a distant trill of an emergency alarm. She'd heard three of them on her way up here. Well, it _was_ a hospital.

"I'm sorry."

She felt something as their skin touched. A shift. For a moment it seemed as if she were back in the apartment, lying on her back... or, no, in some sort of darkened room. Unable to move. Alone.

Neena stirred, her face appearing animated for the first time since Leela had arrived. She blinked, hard, twice, then took a deep breath and turned to look at Yancy. The tiny gasp she gave seemed to be a release far beyond its volume.

"Yancy? You're alive?"

"Yeah."

Neena seemed to take a long time to think about this fact. She looked about herself, folding down and smoothing the blankets spread over her body, then pushed herself upright. For a while she just stared at the blankets.

"I thought I was back in the sewers," she said, eventually. Neena looked into Yancy's face. "I was searching for my parents, only I didn't know who they were any more. You were chasing after me and every time you got too close, I killed you."

"Sounds like a nightmare." Yancy took Neena's hand. He frowned. "Wait, you killed me? What for?"

"You got too close."

"Oh."

"It felt so real. I thought, if I searched hard enough, I could find them again and everything would be all right."

"I'm sorry," Leela said again. It felt like it was just about the only thing she could say now. Sorry. For bringing this to their world, for screwing up her own life. So much she'd done but all she could say was 'sorry'. "As if that makes it any better," she muttered. Yancy gave her a confused glance but Neena seemed to understand. She cracked something approaching a smile.

"I'm sorry too. I'll miss having you around."

"Yeah."

Yancy's eyebrows rose. He seemed to be faster on the uptake than Fry. "You're leaving? What about Phil?"

Leela stiffened. How to put it? "He's made his choice," she said, not wanting to dwell on the subject. Perhaps something in her demeanour got through to Yancy. He dropped it.

"So, what now?"

If there was an answer, Leela didn't hear it. The sound of another alarm and feet pounding in the corridor distracted her. She felt a terrible dread descend around her, like a shroud falling over her shoulders. Leela leaped from her seat, knocking it over, and ran for the door.

Her booted feet thundered down the corridor, past the doors; the orderly was gone. She reached Amy's room just in time to see an emergency trolley being wheeled in. Leela thrust her way past the medical staff and into the room.

They were pulling Fry from where he'd collapsed on the floor, trying to talk to him as they dragged him onto the gurney. His skin was pallid, almost grey. Even his hair seemed to have lost some of its colour. Without thinking, ignoring their protest, Leela pushed the orderlies aside and knelt down beside Fry. He was barely breathing, barely alive. Leela looked at Amy's despair and shook her head.

"Don't say you're sorry again," Amy said quietly. She looked away and scrubbed at the tears rolling down her cheeks. "I knew it was too good to be true."

Leela returned her attention to Fry, running her hands over his face, hissing at the cold chill. She grabbed one of the orderlies by the shoulder. "He needs heat."

"We're doctors, miss-"

"He could be dead by the time you figure out what's wrong so let's just pretend we had the argument and I won." Leela's grip tightened painfully around the orderly's shoulder. He winced and quickly nodded his agreement. "Heat. And transport."

She turned from him and gently lifted Fry from the floor to the bed. He seemed light. Almost insubstantial in a way. At Leela's glance Amy pulled the bed covers aside whilst Leela laid Fry down on the bed. Satisfied he was at least comfortable, Leela turned to her wrist computer and dialled the Professor's private number.


	35. Chapter 35

"It's rather like putting jello in a mould, or a monkey's brain into a dolphin skull. At first the sticky tasty goo retains its original shape but then, after a while, the pressure of the new container forces it to adopt that new shape. And then it's as if it was never the old shape in the first place, yes..."

Leela, Yancy and Amy clustered around the conference table, staring at the complex diagrams Professor Farnsworth had displayed on the holo-viewer as he pointed, apparently at random, to different parts and equations. Fry was lying in a cot a short distance away; though he hadn't recovered as fully as last time, he'd insisted on sitting in on the explanation. Leela hadn't even bothered trying to talk him out of it.

"You see it's all to do with quantum states and waveforms. The combined waveform that defines your existence is just one possible state out of an infinite number of other states." Farnsworth held up his ubiquitous pen and stared at it, as if wiling it to change shape. "In moving from one universe to another you've created an observable quantum superposition, which is physically impossible, as I explained to young Yancy, here."

"I don't remember it much," Yancy muttered. "Just that it didn't sound too good. I was never much on science at school."

"Yes, that much is obvious. Atheismo himself would have trouble educating you. Anyway," he continued, before Yancy would work up a good comeback. "There is no solution to this problem except that you leave the universe as soon as possible because each moment you stay increases the probability of your waveform collapsing. The risk is greater for Philip, given that he is dead in this universe. You might not suffer anything more than a permanent headache. He may well disappear entirely."

"How, though?"

"He's a scary evil duplicate of the Fry in this universe and ever since you've arrived, the combined quantum waveform that describes him has been trying to collapse into a shape more compatible with this universe. In his case that would be a very, very old corpse somewhere over in Montana."

"I don't think he'd be very happy about that."

There was a thump of feet hitting the floor. Fry shuffled over to the table, holding his blanket around his shoulders like a robe. He sat down next to Amy. Grey was fringing his temples and a dark brown stubble was starting to show over cheeks that seemed taut with age, and something else that Leela couldn't quite define.

"How long?"

"A few days, perhaps. I ran a few simulations of the result. It wouldn't be particularly painful. It might even look quite pretty."

"Yeah, for you maybe," Fry shot back. His voice sounded hollow too. Fry glared at the table, unable to look at anything else. "So, if I stay, I die. What if I just go into another universe every so often?"

"No, that wouldn't work. The effect in any particular universe seems to be cumulative."

"It's a cloud?"

Farnsworth choked on his reply, turning pink with the effort of holding back his frustrated rage. "No, you... you chimp-brained _ancestor! _Cumulative!"

"He means, you can't wind it back by going through another box," Amy said. Fry turned sad, tired eyes to her. He almost seemed to be pleading. "And you can't come back."

"If you leave now I believe you should be restored to your former condition, primitive and ugly as it might be..." Farnsworth peered at Fry through his thick glasses and almost seemed to relent in his distaste. "But it has to be now."

I've modified the, uh, modifications I made to your scanner, Leela. They should be able to give you a good idea of how long you'll last in a given universe before your waveforms begin to collapse. It should also be able to tell you when you reach your own universe again. Now..."

He stood, and with uncharacteristic tact, left without a word. Leela watched Fry for his reaction but all he did was stare at the table, his eyes narrow. She could feel the bitter anger emanating from him, surrounding him like a cloud.

Yancy caught her eye and motioned toward the rail. She followed. For a while, they stood together, leaning against the rail and staring at nothing much. Leela ran her eye over the ship from bow to stern, taking in its unique lines for one last time. If things were a little different, she thought sadly.

"I guess this is goodbye," Yancy said. He turned on the rail and frowned at Leela. His face had that familiar Fry look, tempered by what others might call more intelligence but that she knew was just cynicism. "Again."

"I guess so." She turned back to the ship. It seemed lonely, sitting there without a pilot or a mission. It seemed this was one universe where they wouldn't make everything better in the end. In fact they were having a pretty bad run so far, screwing up two and nearly getting killed in three.

"Leela, why..."

His jaw clamped shut and he turned away again. Leela could see the question he wanted to ask. Was it fear?

"She lost everything, Yancy. She's like you." A frown as he looked at her again. She pressed on, forcing herself to speak on. "When you're so used to being completely alone it's hard to admit that you might need someone else to be there."

"I don't have any problem admitting that, Leela. I know I need someone. I just don't need someone who might decide to kill me in the middle of the night, or go crazy over something that isn't even important."

"Then you're not going to have much luck with women."

Yancy snorted. But then he smiled, just a little. It was the first smile she'd seen on his face since they arrived. Leela reached out and touched his arm.

"At least say you'll talk to her, Yancy."

He nodded, an emphatic promise that Leela knew he'd keep. If she knew anything about the Frys, it was that they could be trusted to keep their promises. Or... well, occasionally trusted. And who knew, maybe something would come of it. "Oh that's just weird," she muttered.

"What is?"

Leela smiled and raised her eye skyward. "Nothing. Just thinking."

"Right. Well. I guess you'd better get going," Yancy said. He was looking back at the conference table. Fry and Amy were locked in an embrace, the sort that would be hard to break at the best of times. For once, Leela found she didn't want to barge in.

And then it was over, and Fry was walking toward them with a determined look on his face.

"I'll see him downstairs." She squeezed Yancy's shoulder. "It was nice to meet you."

* * *

Yancy watched Leela all the way to the stairs before turning back to face his brother. Up close, Phil's face looked even more worn and tired. His back was ram-rod straight and nearly immobile but his shoulders were hunched. The overall impression was of reluctant age.

"Hey."

"Yancy... huh." Phil leaned on the rail and stared at the ship, adopting a surprisingly similar pose to Leela's a moment earlier. His breathing seemed a little ragged and when he spoke, his voice sounded... old. "This isn't how I imagined leaving."

"I guess you never imagined being in this situation in the first place."

His brother shook his head and sighed. It was an unusual sigh, filled with the sort of longing Yancy was just starting to experience. "No."

"If you don't mind me saying so," Yancy said. "You look like crap."

Phil laughed and shook his head again. And that was a strange thing too, so completely unlike the Philip Yancy had known all his life.

"What?"

"I'm old, Yancy. I know it's... it's odd but, I _feel_ old. I feel like I've lived an entire life, like I've experienced things, I can't remember what they were." He looked at Yancy, eyes shining with grief and surprising wisdom. "A few hours ago I would have refused to leave, you know. The only reason I'm leaving now is because I see the logic of it. I understand that I can't just stay here and let my life end in a happy moment. Leela needs me around, even if she doesn't want to accept that right now. I can't let her be alone."

"Huh. You sound kind of like dad after he's been on the grain whiskey."

"Tell me about it... don't worry," he added with a wry grin. "I'm not going to start on about my essential fluids."

"You won't be stuck like this, will you? I mean..." Yancy waved his hands in Phil's general direction. "You know. Old."

"The professor says my quantum thingummy will reset once I travel to the next universe. I'll be your dumb little brother again"

Phil suddenly turned to face Yancy, though with a stiff sedateness that added a surprising amount of dignity to his movements, and pressed his hand against Yancy's shoulder. For some reason the strength of that grip surprised Yancy, especially given the way that hand looked. Slender, and a little dry looking. Old.

"Yancy. Promise me you'll look after her."

"Leela already gave me the lecture about being alone."

"She's the one who's alone, Yancy." Phil's voice seemed hollow, and Yancy could almost believe he could see the years layering across his brother's face as he watched. "I've got this lifetime of knowledge that I don't know how I got and it's all about being alone. I know she needs you. Promise me."

"Okay, okay, I promise. Now can you stop with the crazy Holy Grail melting face thing? It's creeping me out."

Phil smiled, an expression that seemed to carry far more weight than Yancy would have expected. He let go of Yancy's shoulder and backed away. "I'm sorry."

"Just so you don't turn into a pile of bones in front of me."

"No, Yancy. I mean I'm sorry. For everything. For all of this." He touched Yancy's shoulder again, then wrapped his arms around Yancy without any warning and pulled him into a hug. "I love you, bro."

Then, he left, shuffling across the conference room to the elevator. Yancy looked away and fought the urge to follow him.

"I love you too, Phil," he whispered.

* * *

The professor was waiting at the great door of the warehouse when Leela arrived. He was examining a line of footprints that trailed from a shallow puddle on the road – some sort of leak in the cavern roof. They lead into the building, between the stacked boxes, and in the same direction the scanner on Leela's wrist was indicating they go. She stopped at the footprints.

"My boots."

"I hope there aren't more of you travellers out there. I'm starting to regret ever making these universes."

"It's not fair, you know," Leela said. Her heart wasn't really in the rant. She was tired. "This isn't exactly the dignified exit I was hoping for either."

"Oh, we all face that problem one day, Leela..." Farnsworth smiled his idiot smile and shrugged, then glanced over Leela's shoulder. "Ahh, here comes your friend. Now you two run along before your bosons decide to re-arrange themselves. It's unfortunate, you know," he added with a sad shake of the head. But then he turned to wander away. With uncharacteristic anger, Fry grabbed the Professor's arm and turned him back.

"What's unfortunate?"

"Oh, well, the possibilities of your situation. You see, the 'quantum doohicky' as you so crudely described it is a two way process. Just by being here, you've altered the quantum state of this entire universe. Given sufficient time your own presence would alter it to the point where the function of your own quantum waveform would be compatible."

"You mean, if I could stay longer, I could... stay _longer_..."

"Yes, that's precisely what I just said. Unfortunately your wave function is simply too incompatible with this universe for the effect to, uh, have its effect, as it were. So, you see..."

He frowned and wandered off. A Farnsworth to the end, even if he did look too much like Fry. Leela waited for Fry to make his way down from the upper levels. It was almost painful to watch, the way he moved, as if his body were in its sixties already. His back was stiff and hunched and his legs seemed about ready to collapse yet, oddly, he was breathing normally when he arrived. He looked at her, sullen but expectant.

"Okay. Come on then," she said, aiming her scanner into the twilit warehouse. Fry grunted and followed her in until they reached a cluster of boxes that the scanner said were their best choice. Leela passed over the box with its lid missing and plucked the lid off another random box nearby, which the scanner claimed was just as good a choice.

She helped Fry through, then took one last look around the deserted warehouse before following.

* * *

Fry woke, feverish as heat burned through his skin. He remembered collapsing as he arrived and the pain that had washed through his body as he had made the transition from one universe to the next. To look at him now, it was as if nothing had changed. Fry held his hands up to the light. They were young again, which gave him a little cheer. Not much, though.

"She loved me," he whispered. It seemed too painful to admit. He stared at the box they'd just left, forever closed to him now. "Do you understand that?"

"I'm sorry, Fry."

"Am I going to lose everything I love?"

"Yeah, well we have other problems to worry about right now."

The tenor of Leela's voice jolted Fry from his melancholy long enough to look around the room, to really examine it. Nothing had been touched here for a long time. A thick layer of dust stretched across the entire floor, disturbed only where they'd landed. He looked up. There was a huge hole blasted in the ceiling and part of the wall, a clear path right out of the building. Greyish skies rolled across the gap, cloud cover that never quite broke to reveal the sky beyond. Beneath the cloud, the city of New New York stood silent and deserted.


	36. Chapter 36

**Epilogue**

* * *

He had spent almost an hour staring at the cryogenics building, from a café across the street. The place that had brought him here. Never had he been back, not even to look through the records for relatives; an option they gave to any of their 'customers'. Yancy watched the doors, the shadowy figures moving to and fro behind the mirrored windows of the upper floors, wondering if there had ever been a chance of being found. He had never known. Never been back.

Leela's message had told him to meet her in the lobby at midday, when she was on her lunch break. That in itself was hard, after everything else. He knew, deep down, she would still be hurting inside, that she might be reaching out for him again after everything else, after almost killing him, after almost destroying herself.

The lobby was deserted and cool after the heat and bustle of the city streets. She was waiting at the far end, in the shadow, sitting still. Curled up, her hands wedged between her knees while she stared at the floor. Leela didn't notice him until he sat down right next to her. She swallowed and smiled at him, nervous and melancholy. "You made it, then."

"I figured if you were going to shoot me you'd pick somewhere a little more private." That drew a laugh, then, but a moment later the smile was gone. "I'm sorry, that was-"

"No. No... my counsellor says humour is good medicine."

"The best," Yancy replied, feeling hollow. "How have you been?"

"I've survived. It's almost like before, I'm still alone, but at least I know my parents were keeping an eye on me even if I never got to..." she paused, rubbing moisture from the corner of her eye. "Never got to thank them."

Yancy wasn't sure what to do, so he patted her shoulder. Leela smiled again, ever so slightly, as she reached up to touch his hand. "You're a good man, Yancy. You know that?"

"If you say so..."

"Perhaps now things have calmed down a bit..." Leela shook her head and looked away. When she spoke again her voice took on a more authoritative edge. She was back at work again. How she could do that, Yancy would never know. "We found something in the records. It's... well, you apparently have a message."

"Excuse me?"

"I'll show you," Leela said, taking his hand. She led him toward the elevators.

* * *

It was called the tape room, for its role in playing ancient video tapes, though it could play many other formats as well. Outside of the Smithsonian is was probably the largest collection of equipment dedicated to the task of restoring and transferring old recordings to modern holosubstrate tape. So explained Leela as she let him through the door.

"Watch out for the step, it's a little hard to see in the dark," she added.

"Got it," Yancy said, recovering from a stumble that started just a moment before Leela had spoken. He decided, for now, not to make an issue of it. "So there's some old recordings?"

"There's a few things. Apparently, about fifty years after you were frozen, someone deposited a package at the cryogenics lab in your name."

Yancy froze. "A package."

"It contained photographs, hard copies and holographic crystalline backups," Leela continued, oblivious to the sudden cold gripping Yancy. "Which is unusual from such a long time ago. They survived the wars and invasions and so on."

Leela stepped around the back of a projector and pulled a small crystal from the case she was carrying. "You'd better sit down."

"Someone knew I was here." Yancy felt the same queasiness he'd sensed the first time he'd entered this building, and only once after that. "Why didn't they let me out?"

"I reviewed the tape. Please, Yancy, sit down."

Yancy sat, on the second of three rows of chairs, slightly off to one side to feel less like he was completely alone. He heard the quiet snick of the crystal being driven home and sat back as the lights dimmed further. The screen filled with bright static that resolved into a room. His old living room...

"Oh, my god."

His brother, looking the worse for age, walked into the frame and sat down on a chair. His temples were fringed with grey and he bore a scraggly brown beard, trimmed to a goatee, that was just starting to run a few grey threads as well. He looked a little younger than the last time Yancy had seen him, though that had been an unusual circumstance to begin with. Yancy's brother held up a greeting hand and smiled, blinking watery eyes at the camera. _"Yancy. It's Philip."_

"You... you god-damned bastard, I sh-"

"_I expect you're upset."_ A pause. The Philip Fry on the screen tilted his head as if listening. Yancy couldn't find anything else to say, though it seemed as if this mage of his brother were listening to some imagined yelling somewhere. God knew he had a lot of things he _wanted_ to say but his throat had closed up.

"_Yancy, it's true, I've known where you were for most of the last two years, but I haven't come to rescue you. I can't, for reasons that will not make much sense to you even if I took a whole year to explain them. If I'm right, you'll be watching this some time in the year three-thousand and six, or three-thousand and seven. You will be working at a delivery company named Planet Express, a future subsidiary of a company that my company will not found for another seventeen years. Obviously by the time you get this, I'll be dead._

"_You can imagine the surprise - I can imagine your surprise at hearing this. What I'm about to say still doesn't make much sense but, here goes. You see, according to... according to what I've been told, I was supposed to be the one frozen in that tube and sent to the future. I was supposed to prevent some sort of disaster, they haven't explained precisely what it was but, I think I can get an idea of it from the ways they've been directing me to invest._

"_I was supposed to save the world, but I didn't. You did instead, apparently, so way to go! Unfortunately I'm also told you won't be able to remember it happening. Bummer."_

"Remember what?" Yancy leaned back to look at Leela, confusion finally overcoming the anguish he'd felt to that point. "Do you know what he's talking about?"

"Not a clue."

"_There's a lot more I just don't have time to explain. Kids, life, you know how it is... well I guess not but, Yancy, there's one more thing I have to tell you. Laura. When she found out what was going on... when she found out where you were, she... well, she never loved me as much as she loved you, Yancy. She always saw me as the consolation prize._"

Phil paused to rub his face with one hand. He bit his lip before continuing. "_I lost her, Yancy. We've been happy together but I never, that is we never really matched the way you two did. She left me. She waited until the kids were grown but then that was it. She loved you, Yancy and I could never replace you in her life. Not really._"He leaned forward a little and smiled a sad, melancholy smile. _"I lost her, I lost you. The kids are all grown up and gone around the world or off to the moon and stuff. From what I hear I've lost the chance at seeing an amazing future. It feels like everything I love has gone away from me in the end. If... don't let that happen to you, Yancy. Don't imagine you can go through life alone, 'cause one day you'll get to the end of it and there won't be anyone waiting for you. If you've got even the tiniest chance to share your life with someone, Yancy, you grab hold of it and you never let go._" He wiped his eye and smiled briefly as he examined the moisture on his fingers. _"I miss you, bro. I always will."_

He smiled again, without humour, and shook his head. The video froze on an image of Philip moving to stand up, reaching toward the camera as if it were the only thing left in his life. Yancy stared at the last framed second of his brother's life, trying to work out if he felt angry at Phil, angry at himself, or the world, or whether all his feelings were just the delayed grief of losing his entire family. He thought back, to the brief chance he'd had to reconcile with his brother and a flicker of understanding began to dawn.

"There's more, Yancy. Another tape."

Another one? Yancy looked over his shoulder at Leela, trying to read her expression in the light of the projector. "Have you watched it?"

"No. This one was marked as personal. I think it's from your fiancée."

Yancy swallowed and turned to face he frozen image of his brother again. If he'd felt anger it was gone, now, replaced with an immense sadness settling over his other emotions like a blanket of snow, blunting and muffling every feeling.

"Do you want me to leave?"

"No. No I think..." he stood up and turned to look at Leela. "I loved her, but... whatever she has to say is in the past. If she's telling me she loves me, I already know it. If she's saying she stopped loving me then I'd prefer not to find out. I'd rather remember the last night I saw her."

A smile twitched his mouth, accompanying the tears that threatened to well up in his eyes. He stood and turned away from the projected image of his brother, toward Leela. Yancy held out his hand.

"You missed your lunch," he said. Leela frowned at him. _Where is this leading_, her face clearly said.

"Um. Yeah."

"Want to get something to eat?"

Leela lowered her eye to the memory crystal cupped in her palm. She wrapped her hand around it and smiled. "Sure. Let me just close up here. I'll see you in the lobby. Five minutes?"

* * *

She waited for him to leave before turning back to the machine again. Leela ejected the other recording, blanking the screen and shrouding the room in darkness, so that only her hands were lit by the tiny red light hovering over the playback console. She pressed the new crystal against the input slot, but then paused.

He hadn't wanted to see it. At a professional level Leela knew this was a positive step, a sign he was finally coming to terms with his new life. But... it seemed wrong, to leave something like that unseen. It was the justification she was giving herself as she pressed the crystal into the correct slot and activated the playback.

The screen flared to life, showing the same room. It was obviously a few years later. The woman seated in the chair so recently occupied by Yancy's brother stared at the camera with a terribly familiar longing.

For a while she just stared, her lips twitching now and then as she tried to speak. It was obvious that she was lost in her thoughts, unable to voice what she wanted to say. Eventually, though, she closed her eyes, and a smile came to her face.

She began to sing. It was a song Leela had never heard before, though its every note felt hauntingly familiar. Where there were words, they filled Leela with a sense of love and anguish; where there were no words, the sense of longing and loneliness betrayed by the song was almost overwhelming.

At some point Laura stopped her singing and resumed staring at the camera. She sat still for some time, just long enough for Leela to recover her wits. Then, without a word being spoken, the film ended.

* * *

It had been just over ten minutes and Yancy was just thinking that he might have been stood up when the elevator door opened and Leela stepped out. She smiled at the sight of him; the first real, honest smile she'd worn since her duplicates had left, if truth be told.

As she approached, Leela held out a memory crystal between finger and thumb. She dropped it into Yancy's outstretched hand.

"What's this?"

"Your video," Leela said. She shuffled her feet and clasped her hands together. Yancy examined the crystal in his hand and shook his head.

"I don't want it." He held the crystal back toward Leela.

"You might want it one day," she replied as she closed his fingers around it. Her hand lingered for a moment, her fingers lightly pressed against his. She let go. And when he looked into her eye, for the first time since he'd arrived there, Yancy saw the future.


End file.
